Or "Welcome to My Nightmare."
I still some days, when I hear that enchanting chirp that is my alarm, roll over, slap the snooze button, and hope I hear a cry. Just a little whimper maybe? Something. Or maybe I will put my hand on my massively bulbous belly, feel those good strong kicks, and I will realize...
But it's not. It's not just a nasty, horrendous, cruel, horror-show-that-is-my-new-life, big, fat, fucking dream. And I hate it.
There are parts of my life that I love. A few of them in fact. Meadow, Lennon, Lee. Being Holden's mommy too. It just wasn't enough. It will never be enough. I didn't get enough time. Sure, I'll always be his mommy, but I want to be the kind of mommy who gets to cuddle, and feed, kiss booboos, help with homework, straighten ties, and the countless other things I will never get to do for him. I don't have a little boy. I WANT my little boy.
Sometimes it feels like Holden's life was just a dream. A sweet, beautiful, I-never-want-to-wake-up-again, kind of dream. I'm glad it's not. Because at least I had that. And it was real. Holden was real. Holden is real. And he is loved.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
blocked
I started this blog with every intention of posting nearly every day. I started it KNOWING that's what I would do. I've always enjoyed writing and I've always found it therapeutic. I haven't written now for years, since I had my first child nine years ago. I don't know what made me think I could just jump back into it and the words would just flow. Maybe the fact that I have a lot to say? But the words don't come. They are trapped inside my head, fighting over each other to get out.
I've been told that my writing has promise. My teachers and professors loved it. Now I read it and I sound stupid to my own ears. I sound sad and pathetic. I suppose I am. I suppose that's what my life has become. Of course there are wonderful parts of my life. Parts that are bright, glimmering halos over the sadness that weighs on me nearly every moment of every day. But the blackness of this despair I feel is what really colors my reality.
I spoke with my therapist, Stu. (I only mention his name because I love saying it inside or outside my head. It has such a fun sound to it.) Stu says I should try some stream of consciousness type writing. He said this because I told him I have a million thoughts running through my head, some of them quite beautiful, but when I try to put them on paper... well it just doesn't happen. I have about six posts that I have started on here and never finished. In fact, every single one of them is two or three sentences long and then it just stops. I find myself avoiding this blog because I know I'll get here and lock up.
But here I am today. Saying a whole lot of nothing.
I do know this. I miss my boy. I miss Holden.
I've been told that my writing has promise. My teachers and professors loved it. Now I read it and I sound stupid to my own ears. I sound sad and pathetic. I suppose I am. I suppose that's what my life has become. Of course there are wonderful parts of my life. Parts that are bright, glimmering halos over the sadness that weighs on me nearly every moment of every day. But the blackness of this despair I feel is what really colors my reality.
I spoke with my therapist, Stu. (I only mention his name because I love saying it inside or outside my head. It has such a fun sound to it.) Stu says I should try some stream of consciousness type writing. He said this because I told him I have a million thoughts running through my head, some of them quite beautiful, but when I try to put them on paper... well it just doesn't happen. I have about six posts that I have started on here and never finished. In fact, every single one of them is two or three sentences long and then it just stops. I find myself avoiding this blog because I know I'll get here and lock up.
But here I am today. Saying a whole lot of nothing.
I do know this. I miss my boy. I miss Holden.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
robbed
If you've read my last post, you know what's going on in my life right now. Pretty much, that's it. My day is consumed with trying to help Lee get his kids back. When I'm at home it's almost all I think about, which is why I am writing this one. I never knew I could be this angry.
This "woman" has robbed Lee, not only of precious time with two of his living children, but time that we needed as a family to grieve the loss of Holden. I feel like she has taken so much away from me. She wants to believe that I stole her husband, when he not only left willingly, without my coercion, but was pushed away by her continuous selfish behavior, constant complaining, laziness, and sense of entitlement. People that were angry at us at the time, have now been shown her true character. Six weeks after our son DIED she STOLE two of his other children away from him. Who does that? If not to him, to his kids! To her OWN CHILDREN!
I, of course, love Lee. So much more and in such a different, beautiful way than I ever knew was possible to love a partner. So I'm doing all I can, with constant research into child custody laws, parental kidnapping cases, etc. I feel selfish for even saying this because we NEED to get those children back home, but I wish I didn't have to do this. If I had my way, Holden would be here, but he's not, and all I have is time now to grieve him and learn to parent a dead child. But that was stolen along with my stepkids. I shouldn't have to put my grief on hold.
This "woman" has robbed Lee, not only of precious time with two of his living children, but time that we needed as a family to grieve the loss of Holden. I feel like she has taken so much away from me. She wants to believe that I stole her husband, when he not only left willingly, without my coercion, but was pushed away by her continuous selfish behavior, constant complaining, laziness, and sense of entitlement. People that were angry at us at the time, have now been shown her true character. Six weeks after our son DIED she STOLE two of his other children away from him. Who does that? If not to him, to his kids! To her OWN CHILDREN!
I, of course, love Lee. So much more and in such a different, beautiful way than I ever knew was possible to love a partner. So I'm doing all I can, with constant research into child custody laws, parental kidnapping cases, etc. I feel selfish for even saying this because we NEED to get those children back home, but I wish I didn't have to do this. If I had my way, Holden would be here, but he's not, and all I have is time now to grieve him and learn to parent a dead child. But that was stolen along with my stepkids. I shouldn't have to put my grief on hold.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
taken
So my partner's ex-wife stole their two children and moved to Florida without telling him. She still hasn't told him. We are filing for partial custody and doing everything we can to get them back, but it's a waiting game.
Holden died not even 8 weeks ago. This is a level of heartless callousness that I cannot even begin to comprehend.
Please keep my family in your thoughts and, if you pray, prayers.
Holden died not even 8 weeks ago. This is a level of heartless callousness that I cannot even begin to comprehend.
Please keep my family in your thoughts and, if you pray, prayers.
Friday, May 27, 2011
break
... as in "give me a"
My daughters school has something every May called "Muffins with Mom." Of course I had to go. I wouldn't let my girls feel like Mommy doesn't take an interest in what goes on at their school. But it was excruciating. I honestly don't know how I made it through. I hated seeing the other mom's there. The little boys at various ages running around being boys. The little babies in their carriers or being passed around. And the girls' friends' mom's who won't speak to me. The ones that do act like nothing even happened. And when someone asks how you are doing, why is it not acceptable to just say, "You know what? Horrible. I am horrible right now because my baby died and I miss him with every fiber of my being. It sucks. My life absolutely sucks at the moment. How are you?" Meadow told me her teacher wanted to see Holden's picture. So I walked her to class and showed her teacher the picture of Holden that I have on my cell phone. It's right after he was born and there's blood on my gown that came out of his nose and he's all bruised up... It's all I have. It's not pretty to most people, but he's absolutely beautiful to me. She took a glance at it and said "oh how precious. Is he being good for you?" What? I said "Didn't Meadow tell you what happened. He was stillborn, so I guess, yes he's being 'good' for me?" Whatever the FUCK that means. As if a six week old baby could be bad? She got that look of horror that everyone gets when you tell them what happened and said "Oh I didn't realize. Isn't there, wasn't there, another baby?" "Yes that would be my sister in law. She's due in August. Thanks for reminding me." Then it was time for kisses and goodbyes and I had to walk clear through the building to the other side to get to my car.
When I got to the car I found I had a text from Lee. He said that his ex put some kind of post on FB about people getting what's coming to them. Well she is out of state right now with his 2 and 4 year olds. We're afraid she might not come back. I don't know what I will even do if that happens. I've just been falling in love with those kids over the past 8 months. If she moves them away, it will be like Lee lost another two children. He won't get to watch them grow up in front of his eyes, only through pictures. He won't get to hug and kiss them, only once a year maybe in summers, if he's lucky. He's already lost so much and if she takes that away from him... I may snap. In a very bad way.
My daughters school has something every May called "Muffins with Mom." Of course I had to go. I wouldn't let my girls feel like Mommy doesn't take an interest in what goes on at their school. But it was excruciating. I honestly don't know how I made it through. I hated seeing the other mom's there. The little boys at various ages running around being boys. The little babies in their carriers or being passed around. And the girls' friends' mom's who won't speak to me. The ones that do act like nothing even happened. And when someone asks how you are doing, why is it not acceptable to just say, "You know what? Horrible. I am horrible right now because my baby died and I miss him with every fiber of my being. It sucks. My life absolutely sucks at the moment. How are you?" Meadow told me her teacher wanted to see Holden's picture. So I walked her to class and showed her teacher the picture of Holden that I have on my cell phone. It's right after he was born and there's blood on my gown that came out of his nose and he's all bruised up... It's all I have. It's not pretty to most people, but he's absolutely beautiful to me. She took a glance at it and said "oh how precious. Is he being good for you?" What? I said "Didn't Meadow tell you what happened. He was stillborn, so I guess, yes he's being 'good' for me?" Whatever the FUCK that means. As if a six week old baby could be bad? She got that look of horror that everyone gets when you tell them what happened and said "Oh I didn't realize. Isn't there, wasn't there, another baby?" "Yes that would be my sister in law. She's due in August. Thanks for reminding me." Then it was time for kisses and goodbyes and I had to walk clear through the building to the other side to get to my car.
When I got to the car I found I had a text from Lee. He said that his ex put some kind of post on FB about people getting what's coming to them. Well she is out of state right now with his 2 and 4 year olds. We're afraid she might not come back. I don't know what I will even do if that happens. I've just been falling in love with those kids over the past 8 months. If she moves them away, it will be like Lee lost another two children. He won't get to watch them grow up in front of his eyes, only through pictures. He won't get to hug and kiss them, only once a year maybe in summers, if he's lucky. He's already lost so much and if she takes that away from him... I may snap. In a very bad way.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
unfair AKA: Right Where I Am: 6 weeks and one day
My Mom has called me every day since Holden was born/died. Yesterday, like many other days, she started to choke up when she tried to say something. Then she said, "Nevermind." She does this a lot. She doesn't want to cry. She feels guilty for crying to me when I am the one who had to give birth to a dead baby. I tell her she loves Holden too and she has to grieve too and it's okay to cry. She says she doesn't want to. But then she continues with what she was going to say. "I've been thinking about Holden a lot and it just seems so unfair! I mean, you take care of yourself, and you do everything right and then you still don't get to take your baby home."
And she's right. It is unfair. I've thought this a lot since we lost Holden. It's NOT FAIR!! And every time I say it or think it, it makes me feel like a small child. I actually sound just like Lennon to my own ears. Lennon, who is her very own person at seven years old. She makes her own rules and when she finds out that not everyone else will follow them, this is what you hear: IT'S! NOT! FAIR!!! Well I had my own rules. I don't know who broke them, but I'd like to do some very violent things to them. My rules were 1. take care of myself because I'm taking care of my baby too. 2. Give birth to said baby. 3. Take said baby home and love and care for him forever. I guess when I made my rules I forgot to say I wanted my baby to live. I wish I had known that I needed to specify. Again, it's not fair. Nobody told me.
I guess the reason this bothers me so much is that, for anyone who knows me, they know I hate it when adults act childish. (Child-like is completely different) I absolutely abhor petty behavior. And I know A LOT of people like this. People who will use any means to get what they want, including the facade of friendship or (the worst) their own children. I loathe people who act like they are entitled to certain luxuries in life, like playing the Nintendo everyday or having your birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese's or standing around BSing at work all day and expecting a raise. You know what I mean? Childish. And saying "It's not fair" just makes me think of that. It sounds whiny. But is expecting your child to be born breathing something we are not all entitled too? I don't know. I've thought plenty of times that some people don't deserve to be parents. Am I one of them?
I expressed this to Lee the other day. I told him that I don't know what makes me think I could do it. Between the two of us we already had six kids and Holden is number seven. What makes me think I can handle taking care of that many young people? And now I wonder what makes me think I deserve to? Of course I'm wrong to think all that and that's not how things really are, but hey, that's where I'm at.
And speaking of children, I talk to my daughter's all the time about Holden. In fact we had another good talk last night. Lennon says things sometimes that make me take a step back and really look at her. She told me last night that she wished dreams really did come true because Meadow always dreamed she'd have a baby brother. Meadow said, "Well we do, we just can't HAVE him." And to that Lennon replied, " That's what I meant." A lot of times Lennon seems to go about her day in Lennon-land. She does what Lennon wants to do and if you don't like it there is Hell to pay (screaming, crying, fits, nasty looks, attitude.) So when she says something like this, I think, Wow, this little person is growing up and she actually does have an understanding of things outside of Lennon-land. She's not always childish... and that scares me.
What a paradox we BLMs with living children live in. Before I wanted my daughter's to stay the perfect little people they are now because I would miss it when they are older. Yet I absolutely know now that I don't want that. Having a child who can never become anything other than a newborn is the worst kind of parenting imaginable. With Meadow and Lennon, I look forward to who they can and will become. With Holden I will never have that. And that is SO unfair.
And she's right. It is unfair. I've thought this a lot since we lost Holden. It's NOT FAIR!! And every time I say it or think it, it makes me feel like a small child. I actually sound just like Lennon to my own ears. Lennon, who is her very own person at seven years old. She makes her own rules and when she finds out that not everyone else will follow them, this is what you hear: IT'S! NOT! FAIR!!! Well I had my own rules. I don't know who broke them, but I'd like to do some very violent things to them. My rules were 1. take care of myself because I'm taking care of my baby too. 2. Give birth to said baby. 3. Take said baby home and love and care for him forever. I guess when I made my rules I forgot to say I wanted my baby to live. I wish I had known that I needed to specify. Again, it's not fair. Nobody told me.
I guess the reason this bothers me so much is that, for anyone who knows me, they know I hate it when adults act childish. (Child-like is completely different) I absolutely abhor petty behavior. And I know A LOT of people like this. People who will use any means to get what they want, including the facade of friendship or (the worst) their own children. I loathe people who act like they are entitled to certain luxuries in life, like playing the Nintendo everyday or having your birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese's or standing around BSing at work all day and expecting a raise. You know what I mean? Childish. And saying "It's not fair" just makes me think of that. It sounds whiny. But is expecting your child to be born breathing something we are not all entitled too? I don't know. I've thought plenty of times that some people don't deserve to be parents. Am I one of them?
I expressed this to Lee the other day. I told him that I don't know what makes me think I could do it. Between the two of us we already had six kids and Holden is number seven. What makes me think I can handle taking care of that many young people? And now I wonder what makes me think I deserve to? Of course I'm wrong to think all that and that's not how things really are, but hey, that's where I'm at.
And speaking of children, I talk to my daughter's all the time about Holden. In fact we had another good talk last night. Lennon says things sometimes that make me take a step back and really look at her. She told me last night that she wished dreams really did come true because Meadow always dreamed she'd have a baby brother. Meadow said, "Well we do, we just can't HAVE him." And to that Lennon replied, " That's what I meant." A lot of times Lennon seems to go about her day in Lennon-land. She does what Lennon wants to do and if you don't like it there is Hell to pay (screaming, crying, fits, nasty looks, attitude.) So when she says something like this, I think, Wow, this little person is growing up and she actually does have an understanding of things outside of Lennon-land. She's not always childish... and that scares me.
What a paradox we BLMs with living children live in. Before I wanted my daughter's to stay the perfect little people they are now because I would miss it when they are older. Yet I absolutely know now that I don't want that. Having a child who can never become anything other than a newborn is the worst kind of parenting imaginable. With Meadow and Lennon, I look forward to who they can and will become. With Holden I will never have that. And that is SO unfair.
Monday, May 23, 2011
body image
I remember being a teenager and hating my body. I thought I was fat. All 130 lbs of me. Actually I had curves, but when skinny is in, it's preferable to have the body of a twelve year old boy. I developed early. I was a C cup in sixth grade. Girls used to say I stuffed my bra, and boys would grab my chest to "make sure" I didn't. A friend of mine told me once her adult brother, driving through town with their Dad, spotted me and said "Man, to be 18 again!" I was 13.
Now I hate my body for different reasons. It betrayed me.
When I had Meadow, I remember thinking that labor and childbirth were not so bad. Sure, there were some painful moments, but it was not what they make it out to be on movies and TV. My mother-in-law at that time told me I'd need to be heavily drugged. It was the most horrible thing a woman would ever experience and so painful! I wouldn't be able to handle it. I did end up getting a small dose of some sort of pain relief and later regretting it.
Meadow nursed easily. So easily, in fact, that again, I was taken by surprise. So many women complain of the engorgement, difficulty getting the baby to latch on, nipple soreness. I didn't experience a single one of those things. Meadow was a dream nurser! Plus I had the added bonus of no period for 10 months after!
Then, when Meadow was about a year old, I was surprised to learn, she'd soon be joined by a brother or sister. It turned out to be a sister, because we now have Lennon. I decided this time around to skip the drugs, and go au naturale. I'm glad I did. Giving birth is tiring enough, let alone at 3:15 AM, but with drugs on top? I got to bond with my new baby without the added grogginess. She didn't nurse as well as Meadow, but she was still a healthy, happy baby and I had minimal soreness and engorgement.
I had such a feeling of accomplishment after I gave birth to both of my girls. I felt like, Hey I was meant to do this. My body was made to do this. My body is a phenomenal baby-maker. It was too easy. Get knocked-up, carry the baby around for nine months, complain my way through, and spit out a healthy, squirmy, perfect little version of me. To have and to hold for the rest of my life. But Holden....
My pregnancy was... normal. So normal you couldn't call it anything but. I had morning sickness all day everyday for the first 4 months. I caught a couple stomach bugs throughout flu season. When I started getting big, I had all the typical aches and pains. I had a glucose test that came back a little high but after another 3 hour glucose, the doc said it was all good. At 36 weeks I was 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced, Holden's heart rate in the 140s. At 37 weeks I was 2cm dilated and 50% effaced, Holden's heart rate in the 150s. I wasn't scared. I wasn't worried. I wasn't prepared. At 38 weeks I was 2.5 cm dilated and 50% effaced. Holden's heart rate...
Holden's birth was physically easy. And postpartum, I was physically perfect. Bleeding was minimal and was over within two weeks. I was up and moving around within an hour. I walked out of the hospital instead of being wheeled out. My milk came in bountiful enough to feed five babies. I am already back into my prepregnancy pants 6 weeks later. So why is my body doing everything perfectly if it couldn't keep my baby alive?
Now I hate my body for different reasons. It betrayed me.
When I had Meadow, I remember thinking that labor and childbirth were not so bad. Sure, there were some painful moments, but it was not what they make it out to be on movies and TV. My mother-in-law at that time told me I'd need to be heavily drugged. It was the most horrible thing a woman would ever experience and so painful! I wouldn't be able to handle it. I did end up getting a small dose of some sort of pain relief and later regretting it.
Meadow nursed easily. So easily, in fact, that again, I was taken by surprise. So many women complain of the engorgement, difficulty getting the baby to latch on, nipple soreness. I didn't experience a single one of those things. Meadow was a dream nurser! Plus I had the added bonus of no period for 10 months after!
Then, when Meadow was about a year old, I was surprised to learn, she'd soon be joined by a brother or sister. It turned out to be a sister, because we now have Lennon. I decided this time around to skip the drugs, and go au naturale. I'm glad I did. Giving birth is tiring enough, let alone at 3:15 AM, but with drugs on top? I got to bond with my new baby without the added grogginess. She didn't nurse as well as Meadow, but she was still a healthy, happy baby and I had minimal soreness and engorgement.
I had such a feeling of accomplishment after I gave birth to both of my girls. I felt like, Hey I was meant to do this. My body was made to do this. My body is a phenomenal baby-maker. It was too easy. Get knocked-up, carry the baby around for nine months, complain my way through, and spit out a healthy, squirmy, perfect little version of me. To have and to hold for the rest of my life. But Holden....
My pregnancy was... normal. So normal you couldn't call it anything but. I had morning sickness all day everyday for the first 4 months. I caught a couple stomach bugs throughout flu season. When I started getting big, I had all the typical aches and pains. I had a glucose test that came back a little high but after another 3 hour glucose, the doc said it was all good. At 36 weeks I was 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced, Holden's heart rate in the 140s. At 37 weeks I was 2cm dilated and 50% effaced, Holden's heart rate in the 150s. I wasn't scared. I wasn't worried. I wasn't prepared. At 38 weeks I was 2.5 cm dilated and 50% effaced. Holden's heart rate...
Holden's birth was physically easy. And postpartum, I was physically perfect. Bleeding was minimal and was over within two weeks. I was up and moving around within an hour. I walked out of the hospital instead of being wheeled out. My milk came in bountiful enough to feed five babies. I am already back into my prepregnancy pants 6 weeks later. So why is my body doing everything perfectly if it couldn't keep my baby alive?
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