ahhh, what a wealth of choices...what should come first? something tells me these thoughts are more circular than linear, so it probably doesn't matter much. let's begin with mother-fucked.
when the three were born, i chose a photo and had announcements made. on the center panel, i had a quote, "the decision to have a child is the decision to have your heart go walking outside your body." can i just say that i had absolutely positively NO FUCKING IDEA what that really meant? my god, i have never, in my adult life, gone through such feelings of inadequacy, regret, and guilt. they say it's from becoming a mother, but 'they' were also just talking about the normal, alive baby stuff. i can say that for me, i really am just beginning to understand that quote; not after the alive babies (which did come with some of it), but after the dead one.
all the attachment crap i thought i worked into a nicely-wrapped package of deserting father and spoiled, neglectful mother went to shit when i became a mother. but i've only really fallen apart after my baby died...i really thought i was a happy, confident, fun person. WHAT AM I? am i really just a person who is waking up from the fantasy of what i thought my life was, what i was? did i take the red pill, or whatever the fuck color?? was that the goddamn matrix? does this happen to everyone who becomes a mother of alive/dead kids, or just the ones who are already fucked but don't know it yet because their coping skills are just that good?
ok, now onto the fun. right before i got pregnant with p@ige, i finally thought i was getting back into the swing of things. i started losing the baby weight, started having some *fun*. it was, oh, four weeks before i found out i was pregnant? i thought i had moved on from my reproductive nightmare; we decided no more kids (i know, i've said that 33 million times already).
and what was i looking for, to try to feel normal again?? FUN! yes, fun...you know, getting dressed up, having cocktails with your friends, shaking your ass a little...it sounds so shallow, but i really do enjoy my friends and conversation and dancing. i think about it more like it's a part of human nature, to want to get to some higher plane of existence through mind-altering substances, music, and discussion...with your best party goods on. kinda like church, but for a quasi-pagan chick. you know?
ok so here i am, dead baby in tow (always), trying to have fun. what the FUCK? it's almost like i am trying to convince myself that if i can just find my fun again, i don't have to think about trying to get pregnant. because, you know, fun and pregnancy certainly don't go together. it's either one or the other, folks.
i try to have fun. i go to soulmate friend's place, we try. we really do. the dead baby mom and the post-partum depression mom. two mother-fucked girls trying to find the fun. it's just so fucking goddamn PATHETIC. what ends up happening is, i get home and feel more in a funk than ever. i don't want to read or write or be anything at all. i can't find my fun and i can't find myself.
what's left to find but another two lines? i couldn't get the iud when i tried, and now two-line-chasing is still an option. how was i so sure i wanted to get the iud and be so sure now that i don't? i don't trust a single thing that goes through my head. i want to try to get pregnant...not that i even know what that means (certainly not the infertility doc). i try to imagine lies i would tell husband in order to avoid the iud when my next period comes. i fantasize about getting pregnant and not telling anyone for like, six months (not because i'm afraid of losing the baby, just beacuse i want it all to myself).
then i think about all the reasons i was so sure i didn't want another baby. will i get my period again and be miserable because i'm not pregnant, and not want to get the iud? will i get my period and run screaming to the doctor who will put it in? will i not get my period because i'm pregnant and regret it????
i want a baby because i can't find my fun anyway and maybe, just maybe, i can work out my mother-fuckedness enough to make having another baby really be a good idea?
what the fuck.
and why does cursing always make me feel a little better???
edited to add: my sister is doing fine. just a false alarm (so far)! these days, though, i'm not as encouraging as i used to be. she's probably relieved that i'm not. sometimes it's easier to deal with fucked up shit when someone just says, "jesus. that really IS fucked up!" and then leaves it at that.
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8 comments:
Your cursing always makes me feel a little better too :o)
It's so endlessly circular isn't it. ENDLESS.
I was walking home from work tonight crying and just thinking I can not do this for the rest of my life. I can not imagine finding my fun again either.
I hate the old me, I hate the new me. So I guess right now I just hate being me. Being me sucks.
Sorry, I wish I could be positive and say something uplifting but I think I'm on the pink horse right behind yours on the same carousel, with the same crap music and it's pouring with rain. What's more the guy who runs the ride isn't even cute.
I wish you all lived closer because I reckon it might not all be so hollow having a bunch of dead baby moms to go drinking with.
Cursing ALWAYS makes it fucking better. Always.
I also miss the old me. Which I often wonder, was it that different from the new me? Maybe I was always a bitter little pill but just didn't project it? Maybe I was just really good at getting cynical and bitter about my minor reproductive problems (I have a kid after all) and other people's shit? Dunno. I also feel like a poser at parties now. I've actually (GET THIS) poured. drinks. out. because they jsut don't even taste good to me anymore. And people, if that's bad . . .
Coggy's right. I bet a bunch of deadbabymama's could really get a party started.
I love that your mouth is in the gutter (meant with true affection). It does make me feel a little better...and I do find myself saying...as charmedgirl would say...WTF!!! It's all part of f it in 2008 for me.
As for fun...I'm not sure I ever had a lot of fun before...but all this grief is decidedly NOT fun. So, I want that to be over...but I know it can't/won't be anytime soon. Sigh.
I do wish we were closer...I am sure that we could have a few drinks and have some fun. And Tash would not be pouring out the drinks that I make...I am sure of that! But mostly, I think we could just be together and it's easy and comfortable. There is a shorthand, among us all, no need to explain. We just know what to say and what not too.
And you know what? We're damn funny too! Twisted, but funny.
Sometimes I think I'm fucked because I operate under the illusion that everyone is having fun but me and that there's some major flaw in my personality that causes me to be unable to have FUN. But you know what? There really are very few things that are truly fun. I can identify with you on the idea that since you're miserable anyway, you may as well give it another go. But that's definitely not fun, as you acknowledged.
I've been more crazy and fucked up in the four years since my daughter was born and died and my son was born than ever before in my life. So yes, I think that whole dynamic is pretty much like taking the red pill or whatever.
It sounds to me like you are groping around in the dark looking for anything to make you feel better. Someday, something will, I promise.
That, quote has always been one of my favorite mom quotes. You are right, after my baby died, it took on a whole new meaning and not in a good way. Mothering a live baby is hard, but mothering a dead baby, welp, we all know how f*ing impossible that is. And yet there goes our hearts, stripped bare, lying in the open, for everyone to trample on. Nice.
How do we get our groove back anyway? How do we do that? How do you stand around at cocktail parties, or bars having fun when the only music playing is in your head and it is that same old song, "I have a dead baby...I have a dead baby".
Do you think we'll ever not be able to take things so seriously again?? I don't know.
I wish I knew the answer about seeking the two lines. I keep telling myself I am not trying to fix this, you know, fix the dead baby with a live one, just trying to get to the place I thought I was headed before. But I think my mind is fucking with me, just because it can. I think somewhere in me there is a hope that a new baby might make losing one better. But I know, with absolute certainty, that aint so.
Maybe we're just gluttons for punishment, maybe we didn't take enough of the red pills, maybe we just want to hold a tiny, new alive baby and scream at the universe, FUCK YOU! NOT THIS TIME, NOT THIS ONE!
Maybe not.
You are right on cursing, it feels GREAT!
Fun? Yup. Been that. Done that. And now, I'm not. It all just seems a little superficial really. I don't really find the fun in fun anymore.
And this incessant questioning the future? How fun is that? We've already been screwed over at least once. What's fun about a future filled with heartache and unanswered questions? And no guarantees, of course. No guarantees we will get what we want. No guarantees that we will ever know what we want.
At my last peer-support meeting, the facilitator talked a lot about what we are mourning. I mean the actual BABY is just the start of it. That is quickly followed by the loss of our identities, the loss of how we viewed ourselves and our world, the loss of trust, the loss of hope and so much more. So, it’s not a wonder life seems like SHIT right now. Everything we knew and trusted has pretty much exploded in our faces. The questions, the insecurity, the loss of self, the bitterness, the hate, the fear – invisible shrapnel is what this is.
Who wants to be around this barrel of laughs? Certainly, not me. Hope I can still join the deadbaby party though.
I think the big problem is that there is no right answer for us. Nothing will bring us back to where we were before we became deadbaby mommas.
And if that doesn't make you say "well F#ck!" then nothing will =)
Charmedgirl, you don't just curse, you CUSS! Pretty damn artful about it too. Love it. I wish you and everyone else could come to my lovely birthday event this weekend. I'd bet 10 to 1 that I'd have more fun if you were there. Hmm...now I'm wondering how many tequila shots y'all could toss back?
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