I cried the other day after I posted on FB a status about how important it is to count kicks. Why didn't I count kicks before? Every. Single. Day. Why? I know I'm not supposed to blame myself, but after two years I still do. Now would have been the week two years ago that if I'd really been counting instead of just "paying attention" to her movements I might have saved her. Me. Her only bridge to help. And I didn't. I'm a fuck up. I'm a self centered, self indulgent, person, and perhaps I don't deserve another chance. That's how I feel today. Inside, that's how I feel many days. Some days I don't care very much for parts of myself, or even like those parts. And that's sad. Even I'm sad for that pathetic "me", the other "me," the confident, sweet, responsible, intelligent side of me is sad for that sorry "me".
It is as though I'm two. One half knows rationally that I try my best, and like most parents wonder if my best is good enough. That same half knows how unlikely it would have been for me to save her, that 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage or stillbirth and none of those women did anything wrong. One half, the rational half understands how important it is to like yourself, to show growing girls how to be strong and love themselves. Rational me understands how breakdowns, though necessary sometimes, need serve a purpose. So the rational half often puts a proverbial reassuring hand on the other's shoulder to calm the crazy half down.
It is as though I'm two. One half knows rationally that I try my best, and like most parents wonder if my best is good enough. That same half knows how unlikely it would have been for me to save her, that 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage or stillbirth and none of those women did anything wrong. One half, the rational half understands how important it is to like yourself, to show growing girls how to be strong and love themselves. Rational me understands how breakdowns, though necessary sometimes, need serve a purpose. So the rational half often puts a proverbial reassuring hand on the other's shoulder to calm the crazy half down.
But then there's the side two. The side you saw a few lines so. Side two is still a mess. Side two blames herself, carries around guilt in a transparent bag and her heart, red and raw on her sleeve if you take the time to look. Side two wants to cry frequently and throw self indulge in pity parties. Side two is a quiet voice in the back of my head who repeats herself over and over like a subliminal message tape and if rational me isn't careful enough the pitiful rubs off and strong, rational me loses it. But then quietly, with whatever dignity the strong side has left, I quietly gather the pieces of myself back together pick them up, brush them off, put them back in place and carefully so as not to shatter again, and then retreat until the glue dries and I feel presentable.
Gabraella's angelversary is one week away. I miss her so much and it is unfathomable to me that we'd be weeks away from trying to bring her baby sister into this world. I'm trying all I can to do this right, to be a good mom, and a good wife, to be worthy of this tiny little miracle's love. But the balance is not perfection and its so hard to let go of all the control. Maybe that's why I feel this insatiable urge to control the aspects of this house. Maybe that's why the nesting and prep is becoming obsessive. Originally I wanted nothing to do with prepping for her, for fear of have it all prepped and then have to see it all of she doesn't come home. That part of me still exists, I think it's the safe part, but the rational post knows that if it's not done now it'll never get done by the time the need to have it done arises. So on some days I want to control the house preparation for her to the most minute detail. It's all because I can control that much at least.
Wow am I a mess. I wonder if I'm even doing a good job at the facade of normal.
So what did we learn today from this crazy rant? I need to talk nicer about myself, . If I were my friend I'd have left myself a long time ago. I need to find a better balance. I need a clean house. (Ha... that's funny and becoming totally true.) I need a plan so I can control the controllable better. I need to learn to listen better to myself, both sides and clean up clean up this huge mess.
No comments:
Post a Comment