Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Since the current (until tomorrow) owners of the house moved out last week, Tom and I have been sneaking into the backyard of the new house and just wandering around, looking at plants and flowers, imagining where a deck or a vegetable garden might go someday. I was raising the umbrella on the awesome patio furniture that they had left, and I had the most vivid image of myself sitting there in the shade with a baby. I told my husband, "I think that things are going to be good for us here." And I really do. I feel it all the way down to my toes. I love this house.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
The other night while watching TV, a teaser for ER came on. The commercial showed a pregnant Abby and then a crazed gunman in the emergency room. I thought, "Hey, maybe Abby will get shot." It's on tonight, and if that actually happens, I'm going to feel terrible. (Not that I'll be watching it anyway -- I've been boycotting ER since they aired the episode about the surrogate mother that refused the c-section and the baby was born brain dead. I saw that the Thursday before Nate was born and it scared the shit out of me. To think, my biggest worry at the time was that I'd have to have a c-section. Boo-frickin' hoo. I never thought that in a matter of a few days, I'd have my very own brain dead baby. ) Anyway, why would I think something like that, feel bad, then 15 seconds later after a teaser for Will and Grace, hope that Grace loses her baby, too?
I don't like this -- it scares me. I mean, I know that these people aren't real. They aren't even really pregnant for piss sake.
I don't wish bad things for all pregnant people, of course. Maybe I was wishing it on these people because they aren't real. I don't know. It's still as mean as shit, and I hate myself for thinking it.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
My Mother's Day thus far: at 6:30 am I was ass-up in my underpants sweeping potting soil and pottery shards out of the carpet with a hand broom after Beverly Cat busted my favorite peace lilly on the floor. Hey, it's only going to get better from here, right? Stupid cat.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
And I loved that child so much I let him go.
So, please don't tiptoe around the word "mother" with me. I carried a beautiful boy for nine months, and then watched my beautiful boy die. If that doesn't qualify me for mother status, I don't know what does. Just don't expect me for dinner on Sunday--frankly, I'm not in the mood. Check back next year.
Monday, May 08, 2006
I'm sending my love to Catherine, who has become a friend to me and is such a good friend to so many others. Catherine, please be strong, we will all be here for you when you are ready. This week was going to be difficult, and then this. It is unimaginably cruel.
Friday, May 05, 2006
- Baked two loaves of bread.
- Made six dozen cookies.
- Taught myself how to crochet granny squares.
Yup, that's what I did yesterday. I used to be cool, I swear.
Wednesday was awful--I cried all day. I don't know why some days are like that, but then others aren't. I've learned to be thankful, though, for the good days-like yesterday. It made me think of Kate's comment to one of Kristin's posts. (I'd put a link, but I can't figure out how--the post was called The Rosary.) Kate said that she believed that our loved ones can contact us in many different ways, including moments of peace in our hearts. That just really resonated with me yesterday--I went from being a hand-wringing wailer on Wednesday, to peacefully puttering about the house on Thursday. I thought, wouldn't it be nice if this was a gift from my little boy?
Today is turning out to be a peaceful putter-er as well. I've got snickerdoodle dough waiting and maybe when I'm all through there, I'll granny some squares. I'm a badass--I like to live on the edge.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
I've been thinking about his a lot over the past several days. I'm wondering how I really am doing. I always say "great" or "pretty good" or "fine", but I never say "Pretty terrible, actually, but thanks for asking."
I wonder, how is a mother of a dead baby supposed to act? I wake up every morning, get out of bed, go to the gym. I eat a healthy breakfast with my husband. I go about my day like I think a normal person should, and go to work. Blah, blah, blah. My hair hasn't turned stark white from the grief, I haven't gone mad. But I've realized that I'm just numb. I'm going through my day like a robot--wake up, gym, work, trash tv, bed, wake up, gym, work, trash tv, bed, do it again.
I can't drive in my car without talking on my cell phone--I think too much if I'm alone, and then I cry all the way to work. I can't go to church without crying. I used to really enjoy Redbook--I've found that Cosmo has no baby stories, so that's my new favorite. I don't watch the morning news anymore--they sneak in stories about TomKat spawn--I watch Lifetime and TV Land, not much baby talk on the Golden Girls or Green Acres. Every minute and every hour of the day is consumed with thoughts of my son. I'm obsessed with getting pregnant again, even though I know that it's going to be the longest, most stressful nine months of my life.
My girlfriends call and I don't return their calls. I'm so damn lonely, yet I refuse to talk to anyone. Or maybe it's just giving the effort to pick up the phone and having the energy for a conversation that I'm incapable of. I go back and forth thinking "they love me, that's why they're giving me space" and "they don't even know what to say to me, I'm too depressing, they don't want my bad freaking luck to rub off on them".
I think about how exciting it is that we are buying a new house and I am so thankful that we were able to do this, to make a fresh start. I've been thinking a lot about the room that I plan to make a nursery. I think about paint colors, curtains. After Nate died, and we had to take down his crib and pack up his clothes, I swore that none of that stuff would see the light of day until I had a live baby in my arms. It was just too painful to have to put those things away. I thought about putting the new nursery together entirely right away, and this thought made me happy. Now I'm thinking--is this nursery for the new baby that hasn't even been conceived yet? Or is it for Nate? I really think that I was planning this nursery for my dead son. That is a crazy lady thing to do! He is not coming home. There hasn't been a mix-up with paperwork, he's not at his grandma's for the weekend, he's not coming home.
When am I going to feel whole again? I just feel so hollow, I don't even know myself anymore. What am I supposed to be learning from this? WHY ME??!! WHY MY HUSBAND? WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN TO ANYONE?!! I mourn so much for this little person, who he might have been. He never opened his eyes, he never cried. I had so many dreams for this little guy. Hope and hope lost.
I guess that I'm scared to death that my brain hasn't even let me have it yet. That it's been in self-preservation mode, and that soon it was going to dawn on me that my baby is gone forever, and I'm going to lose my fucking mind. That's what scares me.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
And here are my baby herbs. Well, they aren't really babies anymore...they're more like surly teenagers who reeeeeally need their own big kid pots.
You know, I have stuff to talk about, but I just don't feel like going there right now. I think that it's the thought of Mother's Day looming-- I'm just trying to keep busy. I taught myself to crochet this weekend....I'm making a purse...whooptie-do.