So its most definitely 4am, the morning after my baby shower, I am almost certainly in hell as I lay on my dads couch with dry lips, dry hands and dry feet that are having a hard time even being remotely quenched by the good stuff (hemp hand cream from the body shop), no amount of water or anything wet can satisfy this thirst, it isn't particularly hot persay, it is just down right miserable... "Ohh yes" now talking to myself "THIS is why we moved" I respond... yes, to myself! If I had to be pregnant in this over and over I'd seriously take a hostage! Now I am also very tired after going to bed at 1ish and waking up at 3. Laying in the mostly somewhat dark, With one eye firmly squeezed shut resembling a one eyed pirate as my eyes adjust to the glow of my phone. The phone that is plugged into this special charger contraption my father owns that has a leash like spindle to make the cord longer, but usually if you yank it, it just comes out of the wall and I have to take my iPhone out of it's little safe bulky home in order to charge it, so griping this sucker with swollen numb hands... Are you picturing it? My heart burn is ridiculous and the metal taste in my half morning breath mouth from tums and iced tea is equally off putting! So bare with me thru this blog on many counts I will proof read as much as one can via iPhone the master of unwanted spell Check!
So yesterday (feels like today still) I was anxious, nervous & terrified even of this baby shower. I cried a little to Mike in the car and my Mom on the phone during the ride up to the "forsaken land". My mom was telling me that Satan wants to rob me of my joy and though I grasp that I still can't help but compensate for the emptiness I gained in losing children. I can't seem to stop guarding my heart. I told them it is making it real, my mom saying "it wasn't real before today" and my response "no it's real but it's making a solid emotional statement that I cannot take back". It's like the tags in my first blog, only now huger, which is good but super scary, another part of it feels like my optimistic compensation that I sometimes do in stressful situations. My best face forward and leave the rest to God hoping my simple act of putting it out there with some belief is enough to impress the maker into doing it MY way, the way I know my heart aches for him to do, because I know I couldn't possibly like the alternative and in these cases I usually didn't/don't.
A great example today my brother and sister Inlaw gave me the book "where the wild things are" which has become the universal symbol in our relationship for hope and a new leaf in a sense. A little more about this symbol...
Lucas and I grew up on books galore "where the wild things are", "the pokey little puppy","the saggy baggy elephant", "Harold and the purple crayon" are all classics and very much speak to us. For those of you that haven't read "where the wild things are" you should and make sure to read it through the eyes of a child, it is an adventure story where in a little boys dreams he acts out everything he wants to do and be with these odd creatures that are less than the typical imaginary buddy yet totally overboard at the same time. From the point of someone taking a psychological approach this little boy is the projection king exhibiting gender norms and extreme emotional desires to be himself and belong in everysense of the word but he also displays how he wants to be seen, it's quite interesting how all who sees him and worship him are these crazy wild beastly characters. Anyway I see the book as something that makes you smile and hope to make your own dreams a reality.
When I was pregnant in 2007 with my first Mike and I kinda knew we were losing our baby, the doctors made it pretty clear and the bleeding wouldn't stop. It was hot and I had been on the couch for days so we decided to go to Target for a few items and break up the hoe hum of everything... We were browsing the book aisles and I saw them right next to each other "where the wild things are" and "the pokey little puppy". I was hoping it was a sign, I picked them up and wept, I immediately thought I want my child to know these, I then put them down and walked away, Mike then said to me "what are you doing go get those our baby needs them" I cried some more then went back and grabbed them, part of me didn't want to be left with an empty heart and a book unread but the other part of me used it as my hope, "we will have a baby to read these to, it's not over yet" I was projecting my dreams forth into my baby through the idea of the book as neccessity to his survival. It was my optimistic response to deal with what may be eminently heartbreaking, it's hiding the bad with good almost. When I lost that baby I started a bin it was called my "mommy-to-be... Someday" bin I put baby clothes, shoes, stuffed animals, books, maternity clothes,and Internet research on miscarriages and health risks to how soon one should try for another baby. The mommy to be bin went through a couple more losses before it actually got it's use with this last pregnancy, it had got to the point I wouldn't even take the bin out if I thought I was pregnant I didn't want the reminders.
When Lucas and Ang found out they were pregnant I sobbed mainly out of fear for them, then jealousy, but almost instinctly I began to fall in love with Paislie before I ever met her, somewhere in my head I had given up on babies I didn't want to become consumed with the idea of my own to be shot down, I knew in my heart of hearts God had promised me 3 children but I put those hopes on the back burner. Anticipating Paslies arrival the bin came out. When I got Angi's name for Christmas that year I decided to give her my babies copy of "where the wild things are" and "the pokey little puppy" and on the inside cover I poured my heart out to Paislie, I gave her my hopes and dreams as though she were my own, I loved her in exactly that way before I ever met her like a mother does for their child. I wanted Paislie to know the importance of striving for a desire just like the book even though I guess in a round about way I had given up on my own.
When Angi received the books from me she cried reading my words to Paislie. Yesterday while unwrapping my gifts I got to Angi and my brothers gift, I get to the bottom of the bag and there sat "where the wild things are" I was immediately sobbing at the sight of it infront of my 30 some guests. Angi told me she wrote in it and urged me to wait to read it. After that I couldn't read cards or encouragement of any kind because it sent me over the edge. Later I read it and texted her a big "thank you" and we chit chatted back and forth about the irony of it all and the whole ordeal she told me as she was nesting and putting together Paislies room she was all alone and sat down on the floor reading my words to her daughter and then the whole book and grasping for the first time the full validity behind my intent pushing her to tears.
The shower in a sense kinda felt like everyone contributing to the best face forward even though that is my defense mechanism it just felt like a huge "everything is fine" which it is but like my mom said "Satan wants to rob my joy" Me going into heart protection mode it is sometimes difficult to celebrate things, I'm scared to love and let go so God can entirely fill me with his peace, I'm scared that I will forget my first babies with Ezra, I'm terrifid to fall in love with Ezra and lose him like the others... The baby shower made it too real, I can't be doing these things of protection but I can't stop and I know it probably won't till he is safe and in my arms. Like I don't want to put the carriage before the horse... It is all just strange and foreign to me, to get out in the end what I've always wanted, I almost don't want to say it out loud for fear of jinxing it.
I guess sometimes we go back to square one, and what we get out of it is where the difference is, it's where we grow. I for one, am scared shitless, and partly loving every minute of it. I just pray God comes through for us, I feel horrible saying it but hey it's my heart.
~Mandi
PS. Also a big shout out to Jeff Bernum who bought Ezra the pokey little puppy when I was about 4 months along, Not knowing the significance behind it but the happy tears that came from this New Momma were more than words could express. Thank You again Jeff!
amused
crushed
exhausted
melancholy
