My days can be tiring, both physically in keeping up with D. and emotionally in navigating I.'s moods and daily frustrations. V.'s work schedule has ramped up this year and right now we are in the middle of a really busy work time. Aside from a few hours on Wednesday night for my birthday, V. has been gone since Monday and I don't know if I'll see him before next Friday when I have planned a long weekend in Laguna Beach as a belated birthday break for me. My BBB! He was supposed to be home this afternoon but it's not going to happen. I. is going to be really disappointed, even more so than I.
Aside from all this, I've had a predominant thought in my mind for the past couple of months and it is this: this is the best time of my life. Really. Truly. Do I get frustrated, lonely, tired, and angry at times? Yes. But looking at the great scheme of things of where I've been and where I am now and I can unequivocally say that This is it. What I always hoped for, dreamed of, and now am getting to enjoy.
It's not perfect - I'd like to be able to have V.'s company a lot more, it makes our connection so much easier and comforting. Really though when is it ever perfect? Waiting for perfect means it'll never come. Acknowledging that my life is really happy and fulfilling 99% of the time and concentrating on each moment as it comes is important and leads to realizing how great this time is now. Life passes by so quickly and my kids will only be young and with me for so short a time. Taking alone time for V. and I reconnects us and by doing it more often, we fall in mental sync (i.e. saying the same thing at the same time) within 20 minutes.
I'm almost to the point of being thankful for Saudi Arabia because I really think it showed both of us that we could have lost what we had and how far off the path we had gotten. More importantly, it has provided both of us a point of reference of where we cannot get to again and in my case, where I refuse to ever even get close to. It's made me like the canary in the coal mine. I even smell emotional disconnect and the walls being erected and I'm like my parrot, Hootie, when he goes into his shrieking, car-alarm mode. Almost thankful but not quite yet; maybe in a couple more years.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Our Puerto Rico Trip
Sometimes the best way to communicate is through pictures. And always the most time efficient way is to communicate through pictures.
Not a lot of sleep, lots of adventure and relaxation and too much alcohol. A good, adult trip.
A Puerto Rico sunset.
A view of the private island from the ferry.
View from our room.
Sitting on the beach of the private island.
Does it get any better than this?!
Room view of the nighttime reception
Paradise.
Going on 10 years married...
Beautiful
Fun ATV adventure.
Puerto Rican dinner on our own. A pitcher of passionfruit sangria and a multi-meat/seafood paella - SCORE!
Friend we made on the ATV adventure.
El Yunque Rainforest, this time without the crying child.
Not a lot of sleep, lots of adventure and relaxation and too much alcohol. A good, adult trip.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Post Puerto Rico
I am going to post about our fun time in Puerto Rico as soon as I get the pics edited which is taking longer than expected thanks to new Windows 8 software. I got some really good pictures so I am looking forward to posting. Stand by!
Meanwhile, I am processing some difficult emotions and struggling as I do so. I have a hard time allowing myself to just feel without some sort of analysis or logical rationalization of why I really shouldn't feel this way. It hasn't served me well in the past and now that I'm aware of it, I'll catch myself at it but somehow am not able to stop berating myself about how I shouldn't feel this way. Drives me nuts.
Now that I'm home from our Puerto Rico trip, the loss of nursing has hit me hard and taken me by surprise because while on the trip, I thought I was handling it pretty well. Sometimes it would hit me when I would see a baby or see one nursing but I was still okay so I thought, "Hey, I did my grieving up front before the weaning." Or so I thought.
These first days back have been upsetting to both D. and I. Monday morning he became so angry and upset with me because we weren't sitting down to nurse in the morning and it just broke my heart. Yesterday he was okay first thing in the morning but then after breakfast, instead of puttering around happily, he got upset and cried for awhile. This morning was better but still we struggle to find/create a new morning routine. We can't go into my room and read books and snuggle in the rocking chair because he associates that with nursing. We go downstairs but he doesn't want milk in a cup and it's not a good snuggle place for just the two of us, with I. coming downstairs for a snack and the cats milling around for breakfast. So we continue the struggle for a suitable substitution. Neither one of us feels satisfied that we have gotten "together time" before we head back into their bedroom to do I.'s hair. As a result, we both feel cranky and off-center like something is missing. That's exactly what it is too; something is definitely missing.
I feel as though I'm having an identity crisis. I don't feel special any more. When I was pregnant, I felt special. I had a human being growing inside of me and only I could experience him moving and feel what was going on with him. Then he was born and for almost 19 months, I was the only one who could nurse him, who could give him sustenance in this way. Special didn't mean I was better than anyone, it just meant that I had additional powers, super powers you might say. It gave me a reason to really take care of myself, to take all my vitamins and milk producing herbs and eat healthy to pass on nutrients to D. to help him grow and be healthy. Now to be honest, I feel like, "Why bother?" I mean, it's just me. I'm not passing on anything to anybody anymore. I know that's not a healthy thought but it's my thought process right now. I feel like I went from being one of a kind and special to just the "other parent". Anything I can do these days, V. could do. It's as though I had a Platinum card before but had to turn it in for the regular card just like any old Joe Schmo.
My mother half jokingly said today that I should be on an anti-depressant but I think this falls under what Dr. Laura says, "I can't fix normal." I think grieving at this time is normal. I know with I. I grieved but the fact that she initiated it and didn't look back made my grief pass more quickly. Feeling as though I'm withholding from D. that which he knows I could give him adds to my grief exponentially. Right now the freedom that I have now been afforded is in indirect proportion to the sadness and loss I am feeling.
Hopefully each day will get a little better.
Meanwhile, I am processing some difficult emotions and struggling as I do so. I have a hard time allowing myself to just feel without some sort of analysis or logical rationalization of why I really shouldn't feel this way. It hasn't served me well in the past and now that I'm aware of it, I'll catch myself at it but somehow am not able to stop berating myself about how I shouldn't feel this way. Drives me nuts.
Now that I'm home from our Puerto Rico trip, the loss of nursing has hit me hard and taken me by surprise because while on the trip, I thought I was handling it pretty well. Sometimes it would hit me when I would see a baby or see one nursing but I was still okay so I thought, "Hey, I did my grieving up front before the weaning." Or so I thought.
These first days back have been upsetting to both D. and I. Monday morning he became so angry and upset with me because we weren't sitting down to nurse in the morning and it just broke my heart. Yesterday he was okay first thing in the morning but then after breakfast, instead of puttering around happily, he got upset and cried for awhile. This morning was better but still we struggle to find/create a new morning routine. We can't go into my room and read books and snuggle in the rocking chair because he associates that with nursing. We go downstairs but he doesn't want milk in a cup and it's not a good snuggle place for just the two of us, with I. coming downstairs for a snack and the cats milling around for breakfast. So we continue the struggle for a suitable substitution. Neither one of us feels satisfied that we have gotten "together time" before we head back into their bedroom to do I.'s hair. As a result, we both feel cranky and off-center like something is missing. That's exactly what it is too; something is definitely missing.
I feel as though I'm having an identity crisis. I don't feel special any more. When I was pregnant, I felt special. I had a human being growing inside of me and only I could experience him moving and feel what was going on with him. Then he was born and for almost 19 months, I was the only one who could nurse him, who could give him sustenance in this way. Special didn't mean I was better than anyone, it just meant that I had additional powers, super powers you might say. It gave me a reason to really take care of myself, to take all my vitamins and milk producing herbs and eat healthy to pass on nutrients to D. to help him grow and be healthy. Now to be honest, I feel like, "Why bother?" I mean, it's just me. I'm not passing on anything to anybody anymore. I know that's not a healthy thought but it's my thought process right now. I feel like I went from being one of a kind and special to just the "other parent". Anything I can do these days, V. could do. It's as though I had a Platinum card before but had to turn it in for the regular card just like any old Joe Schmo.
My mother half jokingly said today that I should be on an anti-depressant but I think this falls under what Dr. Laura says, "I can't fix normal." I think grieving at this time is normal. I know with I. I grieved but the fact that she initiated it and didn't look back made my grief pass more quickly. Feeling as though I'm withholding from D. that which he knows I could give him adds to my grief exponentially. Right now the freedom that I have now been afforded is in indirect proportion to the sadness and loss I am feeling.
Hopefully each day will get a little better.
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