i heard in a movie, "maybe heaven is an instant."
maybe, at the moment of death, you experience the most gratifying feeling ever possible for a being to feel. maybe it's like an orgasm, except deeper and way more meaningful. maybe you die feeling that way.
maybe that instant is an eternity.
i don't believe in heaven in the sense of life after death; i don't believe in people looking down on us and praying and laughing and crying with us. i don't think i even want that...i mean, isn't that what makes life itself so goddamned stressful? death should be peaceful, no? would i love to think i could see *ahem* certain people again? of fucking course...i just can't believe in it.
maybe heaven is an instant.
i just hope they felt it, too.
(for m_o)
Monday, May 18, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
lame vindication
i called the investig@tor yesterday and was told that the case should be concluded by the beginning of june.
the midw!fe will be officially reprimanded, and apparently that involves suspending her license to practice.
yay?
why is the only thing that comes to my mind is, suspended means there's an end date. she will practice again.
is she gonna learn her lesson? i mean, wtf?
at the very least she'll have a public scar on her license...not that most people look that shit up, but SHE will know. SHE will remember my dead baby, whether she wants to or not...
AND...maybe...just mayyyyyybe...
she will think about the fact that she may have, possibly, maybe, screwed up
and caused a baby to DIE...
maybe she will not manage any other clients
as she did me
and paige.
the midw!fe will be officially reprimanded, and apparently that involves suspending her license to practice.
yay?
why is the only thing that comes to my mind is, suspended means there's an end date. she will practice again.
is she gonna learn her lesson? i mean, wtf?
at the very least she'll have a public scar on her license...not that most people look that shit up, but SHE will know. SHE will remember my dead baby, whether she wants to or not...
AND...maybe...just mayyyyyybe...
she will think about the fact that she may have, possibly, maybe, screwed up
and caused a baby to DIE...
maybe she will not manage any other clients
as she did me
and paige.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
mother's day?
i thought about mother's day coming for weeks before today. what would i want to do? mother's day...a day for all the women with kids. yes, i have children. i have three children that are alive, and one that's dead. as i get older and learn the reality of being a woman, and the consequences of reproduction, it's more and more difficult to celebrate all kinds of things. i wonder how i would feel if i didn't have the infertility, triplets, and dead baby.
my mother is in town, and i used my deadbaby pass to totally forgo the mother's day brunch. you know, cause i just can't think about mother's day...forget about the fact that she's completely batshit crazy and makes me want to kill her. so, yay? got out of that one. she sucked ass as a mom, i'm not gonna celebrate her.
about a week ago, i realized that all i really wanted to do was go to my grandmother's grave. she was probably the greatest woman in my family...in my life...and she was kinda stolen from me by my mother. i was 12 when my parents divorced, and when my mother remarried 6 months later (i'm telling you, batshit crazy) she wanted no ex-in-laws in the picture and orchestrated the whole thing. she told us they didn't want to see us, but she lied. she lied about so, so many things.
over the past week, every time i thought about going to the grave, i would break down. there's been a lot of tears this week, for my grandmother who i wish i could have known better, and for my fourth child. thinking about going there was like thinking about paige's birthday, or thinking about any other painful date. the anticipatory pain and anxiety is just so much worse than reality.
i went today to my nonna's grave. i wish she could have seen my children. i wish she could have known that my sisters and i would reunite with my father and her side of the family. i wish i could have known her as i got older and i wish she had a chance to try to advise me. i wonder what she would have told me about becoming a woman...
i wish i believed in life after death, and i wish that i could believe that she's with her fourth great-grand daughter. i wish i had more time; i wish i could have known...i'm telling you, i'm starting to know how people get old.
i think the only thing i'm really sure of is, most statements i thought ended with periods really end with question marks.
my mother is in town, and i used my deadbaby pass to totally forgo the mother's day brunch. you know, cause i just can't think about mother's day...forget about the fact that she's completely batshit crazy and makes me want to kill her. so, yay? got out of that one. she sucked ass as a mom, i'm not gonna celebrate her.
about a week ago, i realized that all i really wanted to do was go to my grandmother's grave. she was probably the greatest woman in my family...in my life...and she was kinda stolen from me by my mother. i was 12 when my parents divorced, and when my mother remarried 6 months later (i'm telling you, batshit crazy) she wanted no ex-in-laws in the picture and orchestrated the whole thing. she told us they didn't want to see us, but she lied. she lied about so, so many things.
over the past week, every time i thought about going to the grave, i would break down. there's been a lot of tears this week, for my grandmother who i wish i could have known better, and for my fourth child. thinking about going there was like thinking about paige's birthday, or thinking about any other painful date. the anticipatory pain and anxiety is just so much worse than reality.
i went today to my nonna's grave. i wish she could have seen my children. i wish she could have known that my sisters and i would reunite with my father and her side of the family. i wish i could have known her as i got older and i wish she had a chance to try to advise me. i wonder what she would have told me about becoming a woman...
i wish i believed in life after death, and i wish that i could believe that she's with her fourth great-grand daughter. i wish i had more time; i wish i could have known...i'm telling you, i'm starting to know how people get old.
i think the only thing i'm really sure of is, most statements i thought ended with periods really end with question marks.
Friday, May 1, 2009
funny?
elle: "mom, i was going to have a sister, but she died. her name was book."
i laughed.
i told people that she said something really funny and repeated what she said.
they didn't laugh.
then i felt weird.
this is my life.
oh well, it really was funny.
i laughed.
i told people that she said something really funny and repeated what she said.
they didn't laugh.
then i felt weird.
this is my life.
oh well, it really was funny.
Friday, April 24, 2009
on having triplets
having triplets really sucks.
does it suck more than having three different-aged children? i have no idea. i go back and forth with my grass-is-greener notions and assumptions.
does it suck more than having dead triplets? i would gander a guess at NO, or more accurately, hell fucking no, you asshole.
being a parent to already-alive children when you have a dead baby brings a whole new dimension to INGRATE and GUILT within my realm of motherhood. i'm thinking it's even worse when you already had a shitload of guilt and ungratefulness about the fact that you had a TRIO.
(one of the things i hate is having to call them unit names like the triplets, the trio, the three...but i can't deny their unit-ness...it is another thing that makes me crazy: i only had two children, my first one being three, my second being dead.)
i want to by-pass the whole disclaimer about how glad i am that they're alive; i mean come on, people. i want this post to be about my real life being home with three kids the same age. i want to say the shit i usually don't say on here because this is dead baby space...not so much because i feel bad talking about my alive kids, but just because i have enough people to bitch about alive kids to.
today is different, though. maybe it's the weather, who is a skanky cock-tease bitch. maybe it's because i've been holed up in this house for way too long. maybe i'm reveling in a pig's mud pit of denial that i ever even had a dead kid at all. probably (most definitely) all of those.
they are four years old. three years old really sucked ass; they could talk (which i couldn't WAIT for them to do) but were also out of fucking control. the first year was a logistically a living hell, and when i see pictures of them during that year, i feel really sad and nostalgic about their babyhoods...yet i don't have more than a handful of really nice, loving baby memories. the second year was i guess the best, because they could MOVE THEMSELVES (ie- i didn't have to physically move them around and wonder what position they wanted so that they would SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY). i also stopped pumping when they turned one, so i'm sure that helped. in a NUTshell, it mostly felt like waiting for the magical time/age/stage/phase where it all comes together like i thought motherhood would be before i had kids.
(STOP LAUGHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
i always assumed that it was the fact that there were three of them at one time, which split basically ME in three, that accounted for the lack of feeling really connected to them. i also blamed infertility, which made being pregnant to begin with really REALLY surreal. i remember saying once during a weak moment that it felt like some space aliens dropped three tiny babies into the crib and left, not that i gestated and bore them. in other words, i never felt that insane mother-love i imagined (and let's be honest, that people talk about having). i'm sure both those factors contributed to my lack of connection/whatever, but mostly, it was me...and HOLY SHIT is that another post...
as a mother, i now emotionally and intellectually know that each time/age/stage/phase has its own special positive and negative qualities. that's the fucker that's being a parent. integrating it into who YOU are as a grown adult?!? i can't come up with a good enough string of curse words to accurately describe it, times three.
TIMES THREE, PEOPLE. i think practically speaking it's really like times 7 or something.
the three, they are four. they never stop grabbing at things, climbing, fighting, falling, screaming, crying...did i say fighting? cause if you think it must be easier because they can play together like a little daycare class, all the same age level and everything, YOU'RE SORELY MISTAKEN. HAHA! i remember having those fantasies...but here we are, at four, and it is crazy-making.
i find myself remembering things women said about mothering, i remember things i've seen them do or say and totally judge them at the time, in my mind. I WAS AN ASSHOLE. i completely understand them.
i also feel a special and new-found connection to miss hannigan.
i also, at times, understand how mothers have (i can't type it) their kids and then done the same to themselves. i sometimes feel like i want to beat the ever-loving SHIT out of one or all of them. i sometimes want to scream and yell and curse them, those little fuckers. i sometimes want to threaten them with the most ridiculous and unrealistic things just to get them to comply.
i sometimes feel like a bat-shit crazy, dumb, worthless, out-of-control woman. i know if i never had childrenbecause of infertility it would have really sucked ass in hell, and i had almost 4 years of the realistic notion of just that. it is the weirdest, stupidest, dumbest, worthlessest thought in the universe to also, NOW, think, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING TO HAVE CHILDREN!!!!!" (this is the post where i don't want to add on to that a DEAD baby [and failed ivfs to have MORE children!!] but i feel i have to right here.)
i'm looking at the title of this post. i'm thinking it should really read, 'on having kids,' or 'on motherhood,' but triplets is what i've got. triplets is what i've got, and it's maddening.
it's sometimes NOT maddening, of course. like right now (totally ironic timing), because the weather is fucking perfect today and it's a whole new world out there, people! but this post is about all the shit i'm not supposed to feel or say...it's about the shit that's negative, but my reality, nonetheless.
having triplets is HARD. staying home with triplets before they are school-age is really, really hard.
it's mentally and emotionally trying
for me
because i fear
(know)
that this whole experience is forcing me to confront my own goddamned self.
it's scary.
marriage, motherhood...
MIRRORS.
does it suck more than having three different-aged children? i have no idea. i go back and forth with my grass-is-greener notions and assumptions.
does it suck more than having dead triplets? i would gander a guess at NO, or more accurately, hell fucking no, you asshole.
being a parent to already-alive children when you have a dead baby brings a whole new dimension to INGRATE and GUILT within my realm of motherhood. i'm thinking it's even worse when you already had a shitload of guilt and ungratefulness about the fact that you had a TRIO.
(one of the things i hate is having to call them unit names like the triplets, the trio, the three...but i can't deny their unit-ness...it is another thing that makes me crazy: i only had two children, my first one being three, my second being dead.)
i want to by-pass the whole disclaimer about how glad i am that they're alive; i mean come on, people. i want this post to be about my real life being home with three kids the same age. i want to say the shit i usually don't say on here because this is dead baby space...not so much because i feel bad talking about my alive kids, but just because i have enough people to bitch about alive kids to.
today is different, though. maybe it's the weather, who is a skanky cock-tease bitch. maybe it's because i've been holed up in this house for way too long. maybe i'm reveling in a pig's mud pit of denial that i ever even had a dead kid at all. probably (most definitely) all of those.
they are four years old. three years old really sucked ass; they could talk (which i couldn't WAIT for them to do) but were also out of fucking control. the first year was a logistically a living hell, and when i see pictures of them during that year, i feel really sad and nostalgic about their babyhoods...yet i don't have more than a handful of really nice, loving baby memories. the second year was i guess the best, because they could MOVE THEMSELVES (ie- i didn't have to physically move them around and wonder what position they wanted so that they would SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY). i also stopped pumping when they turned one, so i'm sure that helped. in a NUTshell, it mostly felt like waiting for the magical time/age/stage/phase where it all comes together like i thought motherhood would be before i had kids.
(STOP LAUGHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
i always assumed that it was the fact that there were three of them at one time, which split basically ME in three, that accounted for the lack of feeling really connected to them. i also blamed infertility, which made being pregnant to begin with really REALLY surreal. i remember saying once during a weak moment that it felt like some space aliens dropped three tiny babies into the crib and left, not that i gestated and bore them. in other words, i never felt that insane mother-love i imagined (and let's be honest, that people talk about having). i'm sure both those factors contributed to my lack of connection/whatever, but mostly, it was me...and HOLY SHIT is that another post...
as a mother, i now emotionally and intellectually know that each time/age/stage/phase has its own special positive and negative qualities. that's the fucker that's being a parent. integrating it into who YOU are as a grown adult?!? i can't come up with a good enough string of curse words to accurately describe it, times three.
TIMES THREE, PEOPLE. i think practically speaking it's really like times 7 or something.
the three, they are four. they never stop grabbing at things, climbing, fighting, falling, screaming, crying...did i say fighting? cause if you think it must be easier because they can play together like a little daycare class, all the same age level and everything, YOU'RE SORELY MISTAKEN. HAHA! i remember having those fantasies...but here we are, at four, and it is crazy-making.
i find myself remembering things women said about mothering, i remember things i've seen them do or say and totally judge them at the time, in my mind. I WAS AN ASSHOLE. i completely understand them.
i also feel a special and new-found connection to miss hannigan.
i also, at times, understand how mothers have (i can't type it) their kids and then done the same to themselves. i sometimes feel like i want to beat the ever-loving SHIT out of one or all of them. i sometimes want to scream and yell and curse them, those little fuckers. i sometimes want to threaten them with the most ridiculous and unrealistic things just to get them to comply.
i sometimes feel like a bat-shit crazy, dumb, worthless, out-of-control woman. i know if i never had childrenbecause of infertility it would have really sucked ass in hell, and i had almost 4 years of the realistic notion of just that. it is the weirdest, stupidest, dumbest, worthlessest thought in the universe to also, NOW, think, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING TO HAVE CHILDREN!!!!!" (this is the post where i don't want to add on to that a DEAD baby [and failed ivfs to have MORE children!!] but i feel i have to right here.)
i'm looking at the title of this post. i'm thinking it should really read, 'on having kids,' or 'on motherhood,' but triplets is what i've got. triplets is what i've got, and it's maddening.
it's sometimes NOT maddening, of course. like right now (totally ironic timing), because the weather is fucking perfect today and it's a whole new world out there, people! but this post is about all the shit i'm not supposed to feel or say...it's about the shit that's negative, but my reality, nonetheless.
having triplets is HARD. staying home with triplets before they are school-age is really, really hard.
it's mentally and emotionally trying
for me
because i fear
(know)
that this whole experience is forcing me to confront my own goddamned self.
it's scary.
marriage, motherhood...
MIRRORS.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
heathen
since the IUD was pulled out, i've been asking husband if i should get another one put in. he said, "why bother? i think it means we should forget the IUD." i shutter at the thought of believing in omens or whatever...but, whatever. i don't know what to think.
ok, fine. i'm infertile. i've been trying, REALLY trying, to get pregnant for a year and a half. nothing has happened. but i'm also not totally and completely and fool-proofingly infertile. IT IS POSSIBLE. and already, last night, while we *did it,* i found myself wondering how long ago my last period was...not that timing means anything over here, but still.
STILL.
i've been telling myself that if i'd gotten pregnant again the baby would have downs, or been stillborn, or some other family-debilitating disease or disorder oof some sort. i've been telling myself i would go mad with impatience at a new baby, with no sleep, with three however-the-same-age-olds.
i've been on a maddening, medical, high-power diet and lost 11 lbs in the past 3 weeks. my patience is wearing thin as it is, yet, without the IUD, with the weight-loss, what do i think about? maybe with the weight-loss i will get pregnant.
I
AM
SICK
OF
THIS
SHIT.
i don't know what to do. i want to get the IUD again, but what if something happens like uterine perforation...i mean, that thing was obviously doing acrobatics in there for fucks sake. i can't take any hormonal birth control, having experienced horrible and bloody side-effects in the past. i guess i could have my tubes tied, but the hospital my doc has privileges in is catholic and they don't allow that kind of newfangled anti-letting-god-take-control-of-your-life shit.
also, it's easter.
how come one mother's kid gets to die and come back?
that makes me angry.
i guess there's not much these days that doesn't.
ok, fine. i'm infertile. i've been trying, REALLY trying, to get pregnant for a year and a half. nothing has happened. but i'm also not totally and completely and fool-proofingly infertile. IT IS POSSIBLE. and already, last night, while we *did it,* i found myself wondering how long ago my last period was...not that timing means anything over here, but still.
STILL.
i've been telling myself that if i'd gotten pregnant again the baby would have downs, or been stillborn, or some other family-debilitating disease or disorder oof some sort. i've been telling myself i would go mad with impatience at a new baby, with no sleep, with three however-the-same-age-olds.
i've been on a maddening, medical, high-power diet and lost 11 lbs in the past 3 weeks. my patience is wearing thin as it is, yet, without the IUD, with the weight-loss, what do i think about? maybe with the weight-loss i will get pregnant.
I
AM
SICK
OF
THIS
SHIT.
i don't know what to do. i want to get the IUD again, but what if something happens like uterine perforation...i mean, that thing was obviously doing acrobatics in there for fucks sake. i can't take any hormonal birth control, having experienced horrible and bloody side-effects in the past. i guess i could have my tubes tied, but the hospital my doc has privileges in is catholic and they don't allow that kind of newfangled anti-letting-god-take-control-of-your-life shit.
also, it's easter.
how come one mother's kid gets to die and come back?
that makes me angry.
i guess there's not much these days that doesn't.
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