apron strings

Things That Make You Want to Punch The Universe In the Face

The unthinkable happened. A friend I met through an infertility board, this blog, and in person- lost a baby exactly baby E's age. Baby E, twin to baby J passed away this weekend. All I know is that it was sudden. She has (had?) a blog called "No Shiny Monkeys" but I can't find the link.

I cried off and on this weekend. Maybe it's the hormones- I only talked to her maybe three times during her pregnancy- and we hadn't seen each other for over a year. My heartaches for her.

I cannot imagine the horror. The shitty thing is-what can any of us do? I know, I know-abide with her-just doesn't seem like enough and that's all any of us can do.

We Made It. I Think. On Most Days.

So, for the last fourteen months are lives were weighed down by the horrible job that K had. Though well paid (which helped us when we really needed it) it was awful. Awful. It meant he worked EVERY holiday but Christmas, EVERY Saturday and one Sunday a month. He had to be there at 6:00 a.m. on most days-which meant we didn't see each other in the mornings at all and were too tired when we saw each other at night. 

Awful. Luckily, even in this economy, he got recruited by a much better, family-friendly company. It pays him less, no stock options. but a whole lotta better lives for us. 

***

From now on, I'm going to stop using real names. I can never decide if my past as a prosecutor made me paranoid. I could never decide who I should check out before they are in arms reach of my children. To make it easier-I've decided to assume that EVERY person within arm's reach is a pre.dator until I verify otherwise. So, the last thing that I want on this blog are their names which, apparently are "unique" if classic. Also known as names of characters out of an eighteenth century novel. I'll remove the names shortly.

So, 

Child One (Catherine, "Cate")=Scout. She is soooooo like Scout in TKAMB. Always climbing, completely fearless, in overalls and cannot for the life of her stay clean or keep her hair untangled. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Child Two (Primros.e, "Rosie")=Cactus Flower (I'm not so sure about this one?). She vacillates between a delicate flower (she is DEVASTATED from something everyday at least once) and a male WWF wrestler. She loves purses (filled with cars) dresses (that get caught in whatever she is riding or building. I also had to pull her off of Cate-she was on top of her punching her! She also knows about five words-and she says them like Animal from the Muppets.

 

 

 

 

Child three (Emme.tt)=Abraham. Unlike my other children-he is sooo serious. He doesn't cry-he huffs until he sounds like he is hyperventilating. He also furrows his brows and coos in a very serious way-I'm pretty sure he is advising as to something.  

Okay, that's not Abraham. Nor is it Emmett acting like Abraham. It's just a picture that's too damn cute. 

Look, I'm blogging again. 

xoxo

It's Not Up to You.

Kids don't give a rat's ass if daddy hurt mom's feeling ten years ago-kids want their parents to stay married. Study after study says that. Period. That alone made me agree to try to make it work. 

(I'm taking the picture-guess who's behind me-who they're smiling at? Yeah, I don't regret giving them a second chance of a family. *Trying to.*) 

What's so nutty-is that my 'friend'-despite what she said-really quit liking me when I didn't immediately file for divorce. In fact, she wrote "not only did she stay she only made him leave for a few weeks." Honestly, I wanted him back in the house the first minute I thought I could be in the same room with him without slapping him in the face. That's the truth-and I'm a pacifist. Why? Because he was out of his everlovin mind-clearly.He was drinking in his car on the way to work. WTF? That's what people do when they are very broken. He said he just wanted to get caught-get fired-anything to make it stop. Guess who I don't want out on the streets staying in an extended stay hotel? Um, yeah, my child's father who I am still legally tied too-not to mention I still loved him-and cared about him as a friend. We both agree had I not let him back into the house he would have ended up in a ditch or jail-or god knows. That's what happens when years of hurt and self hatred come boiling to the service. (Though, the less selfish of us-go to counseling and so our spouses don't find themselves wanting to punch us in the face.)

Did I give him a big bear hug when we came home? Back into our room? Even on the same floor? Not so much. In fact, it was months before I let him be within slapping distance. I don't know why-ok, I know why....-but not why I had this insatiable desire to punch him in the face. He wanted me to. Wouldn't you? It's understandable on both ends. 

Nor did he move back into our room for a long time-and yeah, there was a cold wind blowing through our bedroom for over a year. Frigid. He knows down to the day -until I let him near me. 

And you know what-I sometimes still hate him for what he did to *us." Loaded our marriage down with this heavy gray mud. I can't believe three years later-it remains in our thoughts. I asked him something the other day-can't remember exactly what-but something like- why it made him so uncomfortable to talk about "x" and said that he didn't feel safe-because he still thinks I am going to walk out and still can't really, really believe that I'm going to stick around. That's some heavy crap for both of us-and only one of us deserves some of it. 

And you know-I'm probably naive-but I believe that most people-in normal situations are good. I do know for sure, that all of us are better than the worst thing we've ever done. 

So, immediately defining our 15 year relationship by a selfish mistake made in the weakest time in someones life-beyond not being fair to me-it sure as all would have been selfish to not even try to give two little girls a chance of a mommy and a daddy. 

That's all. I just have to say out loud that its not the weak that stay-and the strong that run the minute trouble rolls in-infact, it's the opposite. It's the moms and dads who can look past their own hurt feelings & muster the courage to risk being torn apart again-because-honestly-the decision as to whether or not to try-well, that's not our job to decide. 

***

Strong or not-it's my opinion-and I'm practicing what I preach. Also note-that I said "try" not "stay for the children no matter what"-that's co-copendent crap to weigh your children down. To K's credit he owned his crap-is and has been in counseling-12 step and has not one  time hinted at it being ok, my fault, and continues to tell show me he is remorseful (versus regretful.)  

No Apologies Necessary.

Why must the lucky ones among us apologize for that luck? 

I know, how pissy does that sound? Until recently I couldn't stop apologizing. For being an attorney, for being able to pay for a nice house, for having children, for, for, for. 

How ridicilious would it have been had someone apologized for having a great marraiger-when my most definitey was not? Did their not saying it "I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR MY HAPPY MARRIAGE!" mean that they weren't?  

I quit apologizng when a dear friend showed me how much I did it-and wondered why. Why is a long story-but I feel freer letting all the guilt go-by stopping the incessant, meekish, always there...."I'm sorry." It's seldom said that explicitly-but always said for the same reason.

I should have known that I didn't even like my apologizig habit. It's hard-and that doesn't mean that I am any less grateful-which is exactly how it's always been. 

I've stopped. Of course, what I'm beating around the bush to say-I assume that anyone (the two of you) reading my blog-know that I am forever grateful-and on a daily basis-for my three lovely children. Waking up to them-is always like waking up to Christmas morning when I was a kid--eventually. Honestly-that was immediately the case with two-oh my GAWD! I have two children!!! Now-with three-namely an infant who I cannot-cannot-say no to-ever (seriously, it's shameful). So, some mornings I'm exhausted-and seeing that Flower and Scout removed all their clothes and bed sheets and that my little prince hasn't slept all night-it takes an hour or so to really suck in and feel how deeply I love my girls. 

But I do. So, I'm not going to rewrite the smae paragraph over and over about how grateful I am for my children. If you've been here for more than a paragraph or been in my presence for more than ten minutes you know that. 

You stop too. We know you're gratful for your one baby-we know that. Stop apologizing. You can be grateful for your one baby and desperately long for another. And who is the universe to take that away from you? Why must you apologize to the universe for daring to want a second? 

You don't have to. And I won't anymore. 

(The above has kept me away from here. I need to come back. Or go somewhere. I just have to get it out.)

 

My Pregnancy Jedi Mind Trick

 

So, when I found myself pregnant so soon after Flower, I got very cagey on this blog and in general as to whether or not we were trying. 

The thing is we welcomed another pregnancy because otherwise we would have done SOMETHING to prevent. We did nothing. (sorry to over share.) But neither of us would admit it to each other. We said we wanted a third-eventually, maybe. 

We weren't damn sure we didn't want a third-and that is the only way a happily married couple will go the extra mile to prevent. We're damn sure we can't EVER handle a fourth. So, that's that. 

No child of mine is an unwanted child because my parents did not want me. They loved me plenty-and they never said that didn't want me-but, I came right before a divorce and during a time of poverty for them. They didn't say they didn't want me-but their actions did. 

So, for this baby's sake-and to be right in the universe-I had to say that he was wanted. Had to think that. I had to want him. I also didn't want to miscarry. I was afraid that if I thought I didn't want him, my body might harm him. (I'm only slightly irrational, eh?). 

Plus, I knew that a healthy child would not result from a third  pregnancy. I knew it was not going to end well.  Infertile to three healthy children-not likely. (I would believe that I made it up-that it was all in my head-did I not fail to produce viable eggs during that IVF). 

My narcissist 'friend' needed to fvck off-when my pregnancy "appalled" her. Who does she think she is? Instead I groveled and basically begged her to "approve" my pregnancy. I know-bizarre, isn't it? Though, if you know someone with NPD it makes perfect sense.

So, that's that.  

 

So in Love. So Scared.

So, I could not love my little guy more. Seriously, head over heels drowly kind of love. I camped out in my room-just the two of us-for a month. He will be spoiled. I cannot even swadle him-it seems mean. Though-I had no issues swaddling my girls. But-they weren't my last. They weren't him. My dear E. 

I'm also suddenly-and finally-very happy. While my law firm has stalled to a drip or clients-I am excited to start rebuilding it. I will move my office this next week-to a small, walkable little town near the city. Three miles from my house. From my office I can see my courthouse and C's preschool. C's preschool is a long look-but still I can see it. And it's a short 1/4 mile walk. Sounds dreamy, eh?

My marriage is-I hate to admit it-better than it's ever been. I hate to admit-because what he did didn't have jack to do with me-as it ever does with any spouse-but I hate that *that's* how we got here. I had so much trouble getting over the fact-that he shattered our perfect life. It took me nearly a year-to realize-we never had the perfect marriage. He couldn't express his emotions-at all. I lived in denile because I could not admit that my marriage-that we-weren't the perfect couple that everyone knew. But we're happy. We made it. Most couples stay together-and that's (so far-and who knows what the future brings in any relationship) our story. After a lot of hardwork on both our parts-me learning to forgive (but not forget) and he committing to a lifetime (or at least for the next years?) of counseling and meetings. He's never been happier either. He beats himself up and still hates the fact that he will live with this "unending abyss of hurt" that will be there forever.  Sometimes, it still makes one of us-or both teary eyed. The last time (on date night) it was him-after I told him, that I get it-finally-it had nothing to do with me. That it was assholish-but a symptom of a very heavy sickness. But he is a different-better-person after a lot of hardwork on his part. Two and a half years of counseling and meetings and a total commitment to us. 

More later. Can't believe you're still reading. Happy that you are. 

Baby E and K have droopy eyes and we all need sleep. 

(the girls love our little E too.)

 

(can you blame us?)

 

It's My Birthday & I'll Blog If I Want To.

Yea, so I've been gone for a bit. Namely an entire pregnancy that turned into a very scary ordeal that ended in daily ultrasounds, severe polyhydramios, an amniocentisis for lung maturity and finally an emergency c-section on 37 weeks to the day. Luckily, polyhydramios has 0% consequences after the birth. So, he's healthy, beautiful and yeah-we somehow won the lottery a third time. I wish it were that 'easy' for everyone who wants it to be.

E, two days old, in mommy's bedroom. 

Transitions.

I can't decide what to do with this blog. I realized that I revealed waaayyyyy to much on here about my life-especially about my children. Namely, their names. 

I also can't write here about what's really in my head lately because too many people who know me in real life read here-ones that I do not know very well at all. 

I still need somewhere. I'm just not sure it's here. 

I have another blog that I am going to try to start using to write about what I need to in a more confidential way. If you're interested feel free to email me at christina.apronstringsATgmail.com. 

I also found room in motherhood for sewing-and I'll probably use this blog to discuss that. 

Right now, I'm in transition and at peace with that.