No Sleep Now

I’m failing at this motherhood thing. I thought it would be easier. And I tried so hard to make it work. My heart was swelling like a balloon and I wanted so badly to protect and love this little creature that I’d been cocooning in my body for the past 41 weeks.

But people came in the night and stole her away. And hurt her over and over again with needles. They separated us after not even 24 hours. They separated us right out of the womb. They took her away to the crash cart and I had waited so long to see her and waited and waited and no one would let me see her.

And then the NICU. The forced feedings and her lunging at my breast and then cringing from it. Her red face all wrinkled up. Tears staining her cheeks and mine.

I’m tired. I tried so hard to establish a bond but there was some doctor or nurse or lactation consultant in the way the whole first week of her life and then it was just sheer fucking exhaustion. I’ve never had a chance to recover. I’ve never had a chance at a full night’s sleep or a decent long shower.

And then… this whole time I thought our relationship was like a partnership.

“We’re supposed to be a team,” He says.

How come all the shirts says “Daddy’s Girl” but I’m the one who carried her for 10 months? I’m the one who has lost all the sleep and gained all the weight and permanently distorted her body.

I’m the one whose life has been thrown into complete chaos.

Everything changed for me. And you can’t even give up your night’s sleep or your fucking game night.

I feel broken. I feel like the chances I had at connecting with my baby is lost. Was lost. I haven’t had time to mourn… life feels so surreal right now.

It’s hard to know how much of my relationship with this new person is faking it, sheer grit and determination, shocked acceptance, and real, honest to goodness love. I don’t understand what’s happening to me or my body half the time. I’m in some kind of weird mental state where things just don’t make sense.

I’m so disconnected from my own emotions – it is sad. I am so fucking sad. That seems to be the only thing that breaks through the grey clouds of my life right now – the sadness. I want to translate that to happiness and elation.

I WANT TO SLEEP. But I can’t. Food has lost it’s luster. I can barely be bothered to change my clothes on a daily basis. I cringe at the idea of pumping at my poor, abused breasts anymore than needed but there’s no stock supply of milk in the fridge. She is drinking it as fast as I’m producing. I’m losing all the battles.

Everything I wanted to do – all I wanted for me and my baby got derailed and I can’t get the cars back on the track.

I’m just sad and alone. There’s no chance for sleep now. The baby is waking up.

Bigger Things

So – here’s what happened. 

I got pregnant. And it’s like the whole stupid world exploded around me. 

People who were supposed to be my friends vanished – usually under the guise of my being “too sensitive.” Right, or just not tolerating your asshole-ish behaviors anymore. Big surprise there. And if they were unable to cope with my increased sensitivity, that only further proves the point. They could not look at this window as a time where maybe they should tone it down a bit, or make any kind of exceptions in our relationship to accomodate me. So fuck ’em. 

My work life got harder. Mostly because I was attempting to prop up an entire department – but also because in the wake of my announcement – aside from some kind of weird auxillary support – they did not actually support me. I basically became a pariah of some sort there, and it’s never really been the same. 

In fact – the shitty FMLA meeting and everyone’s response to it yesterday was pretty damn eye opening. The principal cracked jokes about hoping that I didn’t pregnant again any time soon. The Vice President of Development very publicly requested I share my maternity leave begin and end dates. My “supervisor” made another routine, daily observation about nearly every food item that I consumed. 

There’s been a general attitude of hostility as my belly grows and my due date nears – despite a pretty consistent work performance. I am still getting all my work done. Basically anything and everything I do is blamed on my pregnancy and related back to it and I’m just so damn fucking tired of having to pretend that I am not pregnant when I very clearly am. 

The more people push me – the more I am prone to do the opposite of what they want. 

I am thinking very hard right now about taking three months maternity and giving a stiff middle finger to “coming back to work part time” in October to be of assistance. You will have a temp person – a benefit never offered to me during the 4.5 months I was tackling two jobs while pregnant. Nope – instead I got side eye glances and false support and then at the end of it all – that they were disappointed with the quality of my work. 

They were not happy with all that I “tried to do.” 

I need to take up more space. Is my problem. I’m always trying to make myself small and invisible. There is nothing small or invisible about being pregnant and no one is going to let me forget it. 

So if I’m going to occupy more space – then I need to own it.

It’s frustrating that this time in my life doesn’t seem to allow me much devotion to bonding with this person inside me. I am enamored with many aspects – but everyone else keeps pushing in on top of it with their agendas. 

Zooming in from out of town for me to drop everything. Lamenting how I used to be more fun when I drank. Filling up all my calendar dates with their desires and needs – regardless of what is happening with me and this kid. 

I am tired of prioritizing people who don’t prioritize me. 

Bigger things are happening in my world. 

Assholes

“You’re only invisible to those who don’t deserve to see you.”

I wasted a lot of time last year trying to be visible to people who had no interest or desire in truly seeing me.

Nothing is more painful than people you care deeply about – people you’ve supported emotionally and materially – making you feel invisible. Refusing to hear you or see you or be compassionate towards your feelings or emotions. Who devalue your experiences. Who refuse to listen.

If you have one of those assholes in your life – cut them out. They don’t deserve you. Make some room and pay attention to the people who genuinely reciprocate support and caring.

Stop wasting your time on assholes.

Having a Hard Time.

Trying to do everything asked of me in a time where my physical, mental and emotional capacity is reduced.

Dan asked me to stir the crock pot before I left for work this morning and even though I distinctly remember putting the lid back on (and locking it) – was still absolutely certain I’d left it off.

Forgetting to put dates in the calendar. Cancelling plans with folks. Sifting through emails at work finding invoices I already paid… I think. Printing them out to double-check. Just in case.

Losing my keys. Losing my dinner. Losing my mind.

My head is not above water.

So please be extra nice to me. Be much more sensitive than you’ve ever had to. I may not come off as being weak, or needing help or being sensitive to bullshit. But I am now. Right now.

What I Gave Up

Were the things I wasn’t really doing anyway.

So there is nothing lifted from my plate. And I don’t get the sense that you really understand. Or that you are that compassionate.

As with many people in my life, you just sort of blend me and my voice into the background until you have need of me.

And then, you might abuse me.

Cause I’m congenial and self deprecating.

That’s the thing about self-deprecation. Only I get to do it. Not you.

That is not for you.

This is for me. This is not for me. And if you have to fire me because I’m late. Do it. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out.

The important things are drawing into sharp focus. Perspectives have already shifted. And some people will be surprised that their voices no longer matter as much.

That they are no longer the clearest element in the picture.

You’ve got to be this tall to ride.

What I gave up were things that were no longer serving me anyway. That I was no longer really serving.

There is a lot left to do. Just let me do it the way I know how. MY WAY.

Ready For Change

Made real progress on the room swap today.

Tucked the last remnants of the 2013 holiday season in the attic.

Even cleaned out the linen closet.

The ultrasound on Friday eased so much of the anxiety I was feeling… About everything. About most things.

Heartbeats. I saw it. I heard it. Dan smiling next to me. Holding my hand.

Holding hands.

We’re gonna get through this.

It is seeming much more feasible and manageable than I first thought.

8 weeks today. Only one month to go before we are in the clear. Mostly in the clear. 🙂

Ice, Ice, Baby.

It’s hard not expressing to people the things that are happening to me – especially when they are pretty awesome.

That has been the biggest blow – keeping the secret. SECRETS.

Everything is privileged information and I’m so often a ghost in the lives of others. It doesn’t matter if I hear or see because I’m invisible after-all.

A spectre.

So I can disappear inside this dream and just share it with a few people so far. So that is nice. To have something that is mostly mine.

And the day to day drudgery of it is hard, but worth it. It’s a good fight, to fight this way.

It’s good.

Fighting back the sea-sickness with peppermints and a pocketful of almonds and samurai armor and heated blankets.

Cheese and crackers that I don’t want to share.

Tears for me and for everyone else. But mostly for everyone else. Sobbing to my sister over the phone that this is hard and I don’t want things to change and I don’t want to do things before I’m ready.

But all that is over now. All those decisions are getting made for me. Without me. I’m on the ride now and it’s ups and down and twists and turns and I’m just sitting in the middle, holding my stomach.

Holding my stomach as it drops and swells.

Every time it dips and I feel my grip loosening, that means everything is OK. It’s the opposite of what you should believe.

The sickness means it’s working. I’ve never been happier to feel so terrible.

I’ve never been here before. I’ve been to so many other places over and over again.

Back to the well, drinking the poison water. Drinking words and looks and riding the coat-tails of feelings and confusion and a heavy drugged feeling.

All that is behind me now.

I’m going someplace new. Who will follow me down this rabbit hole?

Who else is brave enough?

Giants.

Only a few more days left in 2013 and the revelations of this last week have pretty much dispersed all the bad feelings this year harbored.

There is something about putting together a sentimental family slideshow every year to exponentially increase your gratitude, even in the face of trials and tribulations. Those things fade and wither into the background when you are given an opportunity to curate, highlight and provide a soundtrack to the many adventures of loved ones.

The bad stuff is so small now. And we are giants in the face of it, carrying these happy memories forward into our better days.

What’s the point of talking…

If you don’t actually hear anything I’ve said?

Naw – we do things in circles until we don’t do them anymore. Circles, cycles, whatever.

Phoenix King.

“From this moment on, I will be known as the Phoenix King.”

The phoenix is said to regenerate when wounded, essentially making it immortal and invincible. Similarly, it is asserted that a phoenix can heal a person with its tears, and even temporarily make them immune to death. The phoenix is a symbol of fire, divinity, and justice.

“I was never angry with you, I was sad because I thought you’d lost your way.” – Uncle Iroh