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Thursday, October 16, 2008

Lovely and Logical - NOT!

Greetings, KuKd Strong Mommas and Inquisitive Guests!

Today's strange thought:

Our skulls are thin, and anything could crush them at any moment. As humans, we are literally like these walking bags of naked vulnerability. Sometimes I fantasize in all seriousness about requiring K to wear a helmet everywhere he goes. Biking, driving, shopping, eating, hiking, teaching, whatever. Just as some added protection, because I can't bear the thought of something falling on his head and potentially snuffing out his life. I've talked to my friend in D.C. about this, and she agreed that we have thin skulls, but her agreement stopped there.


I always seem to choke up at the weirdest times, and never when I'm technically supposed to. Yesterday, I was technically supposed to.

That's because it wasPregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I knew that day was for me and K and our son. A day to dislodge those little pockets of grief still hidden inside and manhandle them for an evening. Blow my nose loudly. Look at Zach's pictures and feel something. Light candles for my baby boy. Light more candles for baby Elijah, Matthew, Anika, Persephone, Colin and Ryan, who joined Zach in his trip to the MTV's RealHeaven Penthouse for Knocked Down Babies. Play a nauseating Celine Dion song in the background.

The problem was, I just wasn't feeling anything. It was a day of life, not of death, an ironically GOOD day actually, because I decided to take my last blog post to heart and find some life to revel in. So I did, and I'll explain exactly what that means in my next post. Boy, aren't you biting your nails in suspense now...

On the flip side, I did get upset a few months ago when we had visitors stay with us - K's old college roommate and his 5-months pregnant wife - and the wife said she was hungry. That was it. She said she was hungry. That was enough to set me off into a brow-furrowing, stomach-lurching bawl session while driving 70 mph in a 60 mile-an-hour zone on the freeway. No, the couple wasn't in the car with us, thank God. It was just me and K, who was glancing nervously at me and then at the road and then back at me. No, I don't need to pull over, I sobbed. But why does she get to be HUNGRY and I don't!!!!

Ah yes, if only everything were lovely and logical!


Michelle said...

Isn't it strange how these thoughts can just pop in your head out of no where and knock the wind out of you. I hate it when that happens because it seems to be at the times you don't want it to and not the times you expect them like yesterday.

Good for you on finding something to revel in...Biting my nails in suspense. :)

Sara said...

okay Monica - I have a "word creation" assignment for you - I need a word to describe the reaction I feel whenever friends are talking so confidently about pregnancy & it resulting in a take-home baby. . .I struggled with this over a weekend spent with friends (one of whom is 8 months pregnant and the other is planning her third pregnancy to happen conveniently in November). It just seemed so unreal to me that they were so confident that everything was going to work out exactly as they planned. But hell, I probably did that once upon a time. I spent the time they were chatting realizing that I wanted them to understand that I don't have the same confidence, that I can't plan on things working out - but then I was being no better than they were - focused only on my own reality - so I kept my mouth shut. But I felt so so sad for myself.

What is that feeling? Is it jealousy? Is it anger at my body failing me? Is it grief? I don't begrudge them their happiness. I think when I'm in a good place I'm able to brush it off and be light-hearted with them. But I wasn't in a good place last weekend - one year after a traumatic miscarriage with only 20 extra pounds and two more losses to show for it. The due date for my second loss was going to be this month. (okay, so now I'm wallowing)

Thanks for letting me hijak. I'm looking forward to reading about what you did to revel yesterday. . . going to be taking notes.

Monica LeMoine said...

OK Sara, you got it! Give me some time to look into my crystal English teacher ball of KuKd words. Oh, and rest assured: I TOTALLY get that feeling, dudette!

sharonvw said...

Lovely and logical indeed!!! If only! W says there is nothing logical about me, which perhaps would explain my bizarre reactions to KuKd at the most inoportune times!
Glad to hear you're taking your own advise.
You go girl!

Rebecca said...

I want to respond to sara since I totally know what she is talking about.

After a long absence from yoga, I finally decided that one important way to help me crawl back to some semblance of mental health after a year and a half of infertility treatments, and a month after a miscarriage, would be to return to a regular yoga practice. I finally dragged myself to a yoga class, and when the instructor asked if anyone had any injuries he should know about, one young woman said, "I'm pregnant!" So, first of all - knife in my heart; really? today you have to be in my yoga class?? The instructor then noted that since she wasn't showing AT ALL, she must be in the first trimester. When she agreed, I wanted to shout that she didn't know whether the pregnancy would last or not and anyway, didn't she know she wasn't supposed to be telling people this early?!?

But then I decided instead to marvel about how some people are still so unscarred from life that they don't know about all the bad things waiting to happen to them yet - and isn't that a wonderful place to be? So I focused on trying to see the awe and beauty in that kind of innocence, and to try to let go enough myself so that I too could someday get to a place myself where I would be able to experience simple joy without so much baggage of pain.

I'm so so so not there yet myself - compounded this week by a friend who *wasn't even trying* to get pregnant and thought she had parasites who just told me that in fact she is 4 months pregnant - but I am still trying to focus on seeing the wonder in that innocence rather than being enraged, mean-spirited, and broken...

(oh, and then the next week when I went to yoga class, my instructor noticed my bulging stomach and thought I was pregnant, so I had to leave that class early since I was starting to bawl. Maybe yoga isn't the best mental health support right now afterall?!? :) )

Monica LeMoine said...

Oh dear, dear, dear. Our hearts are hurting. Rebecca, can you think of a good new KuKd word to describe what you and Sara and all of us have felt? We need a jealousy-anger-sadness-grief combo. I'll keep working on that one.

Sara said...

Rebecca - you are so right - when I was talking myself down from the ledge last weekend - I was reminding myself that I truly want my friends to be blissfully ignorant of loss. And these friends in particular have their own heartaches - no one is really immune to being hurt in this world. It's also helped me to just embrace the fact that I'm not okay - I'm being a bit more gentle with myself for now. It will pass.

Monica - I hope my assignment doesn't give you "word creation" block. :-) I feel like if I could name that emotion it would help.

Viktoria said...

Monica - I hope the reveling is coming along with wild abandon. Once in a while my husband makes me laugh so hard I cry or almost pee my pants. This used to be a regular occurance (he's a funny guy) but now I try and savor the elation as long as I can even after I've stopped laughing.

Rebecca - Your yoga instructor needs a kick to the head for being so insensitive. Does he know the rule? Unless you're the woman's physician or mother you have no right to ask any woman if she's pregnant. Sheesh!