Things have been a little bit weird lately. We stopped trying to prevent pregnancy in January. Since we're not 'baby crazy', that's our version of trying to conceive. Apparently we're really good at it. I've already been up knocked up twice. I've also miscarried twice.
The first time, I found out at 4 weeks and started spotting at 4 weeks and 2 days. I started obviously miscarrying at 5 weeks and 5 days.
The second time was an accident. I had just finished my first miscarriage, and we had an evening that involved a too much wine and too little birth control. I'd just had a doctor's visit, and she didn't say that we needed to wait to try again but I kind of thought that we should. Although we both know where babies come from, neither of us was really thinking that I'd get pregnant again so soon. I mean, my body had just been through a bit of a crisis. Would it even be ready again? Well, yes and no. I got a positive home pregnancy test at 4 weeks, and another 2 and 5 days later. We were so excited! Then I miscarried dramatically at 5 weeks.
Being in possession of wildly fluctuating hormone levels for so long took a toll on me and on The Man. It's one thing to be pregnant and to understand and adjust to the changes that are occurring. It's another thing entirely to lose a pregnancy, almost re-regulate your emotional self then start the roller coaster again... and get off it again.
I began to feel unsure of myself and I projected it onto The Man. I even accused him (obliquely) of having another affair when I couldn't get ahold of him for an hour or so one day. The ridiculous part was that he was defensive and pissy when he came home that day. I decided that this was even more evidence to support my insanity but really he was mad about something that I had muttered at him whist still asleep that morning... Communication is KEY, people. Without it, we're just shadow boxing with our fears.
My task for myself is to return to what I consider to be normal. It's time to feel like ME - whatever that means. Time to feel good in my body. Time to enjoy this amazing life that I have. Time to define what it means to me to be a stay-at-home mother of a two-year-old... or is it time to go back to work? Ugh. Maybe I should just get through this week then see where I am...i
If we still want to try for another baby in a few months, then we will. If we decide that the one that we have is so awesome that she counts as two, then so be it.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Book for Thought
I just finished 'Fly Away Home' by Jennifer Weiner. It's not her best book... yet this was the second time I've read it. I have very limited time at the library these days (toddlers are terrible at waiting while you peruse), and the two closest branches are a bit limited in their selections. I was in desperate need of things to read, and... I couldn't remember if I'd read this one or not - not a good sign.
The story revolves around a mother and her two grown daughters. In very different ways, all three of them have sublimated what they want and who they are in order to please those around them. In the case of the mother, that's how she spent her entire adult life, and her husband then cheated on her with someone that reminded him of who she was when they met. I am NOT blaming the (fictional) wife for the (fictional) affair. I am noting that the character found herself lost, and it wasn't until she spent time thinking only of herself and what she wanted/needed from life that she was able to find happiness. Happiness that she hadn't experienced in many many years.
The daughters 1) became someone who was outwardly successful, but was lonely and miserable and 2) became a drugged out scared-y cat. The 'successful' one had to slow down and stop caring what everybody thought. The druggy one had to rehab herself and learn that she didn't have to care that she would never 'measure up' to her sister, since nobody was measuring.
Food for thought, no? The message here is STAY TRUE TO YOURSELF. It's important. In some cases, it might be all you have.
This culture that has ben created wherein folks (usually women) create a version of themselves that they think is more palatable or popular terrifies me. How long do they honestly expect to keep that up? What do they think will happen when they drop the charade and let their true colors show? Why would they want to be with someone (friend or lover) who wouldn't like the person that they really are?
The story revolves around a mother and her two grown daughters. In very different ways, all three of them have sublimated what they want and who they are in order to please those around them. In the case of the mother, that's how she spent her entire adult life, and her husband then cheated on her with someone that reminded him of who she was when they met. I am NOT blaming the (fictional) wife for the (fictional) affair. I am noting that the character found herself lost, and it wasn't until she spent time thinking only of herself and what she wanted/needed from life that she was able to find happiness. Happiness that she hadn't experienced in many many years.
The daughters 1) became someone who was outwardly successful, but was lonely and miserable and 2) became a drugged out scared-y cat. The 'successful' one had to slow down and stop caring what everybody thought. The druggy one had to rehab herself and learn that she didn't have to care that she would never 'measure up' to her sister, since nobody was measuring.
Food for thought, no? The message here is STAY TRUE TO YOURSELF. It's important. In some cases, it might be all you have.
This culture that has ben created wherein folks (usually women) create a version of themselves that they think is more palatable or popular terrifies me. How long do they honestly expect to keep that up? What do they think will happen when they drop the charade and let their true colors show? Why would they want to be with someone (friend or lover) who wouldn't like the person that they really are?
Friday, March 25, 2011
One More Tale To Tell
O.k., I have unloaded a LOT of stuff here in the short time since I opened this blog. I kind of feel like I've said almost all that I can for right now. Unless something changes, I plan on taking a break from spending so much time on this for a while. I've worked through a lot on my own just by having it so close to the front of my brain. It's time to let what's left simmer on the back burner of my subconscious for a while and devote my full attention to the present.
Before my hiatus (or whatever it ends up being), I have another story to tell.
I was almost at the end of the first trimester of my pregnancy. I was home one day, and the phone rang. It was a local number, but not one that I recognized. The man on the other end announced that he was the SlutChild's current boyfriend. He claimed that he was calling because he was trying to break up with her and (SURPRISE), she had gone nutsos. He was (also) married, and the SlutChild was basically stalking his wife. He was calling me to beg for advice on how to 'handle her'. I was sick. How did he even know who I was? Well, he said that she loved to brag about how awful she had been to me - apparently using my name all the while - so he had simply looked me up in the phone book.
SERIOUSLY?! And he wanted me to give him advice? Um, no. At this point, we were less than a year out from the end of the affair, and less than 6 months out from the last time she had invaded our lives. There was NO way that I was going to give her any reason to waltz back in. This dumbass was the same kind of dumbass that The Man had been. That meant that he was completely snookered by her manipulations. This also meant that if I said anything against her, there was a 90% chance that he would blurt out exactly what I said and that it was me who had said it to him. No way.
I told him 'Nobody handles her. She is her own woman. When she decides that she's done with you, she will leave.' Since I was paraphrasing things that she had previously screamed at me, I figured it was safe to say them... and say them I did... over and over. He was devastated that I wouldn't say more. 'Please, just tell me how you got rid of her!' I simply repeated my new mantra. He grabbed at another straw - 'We have a lawyer and we're building a legal case against her. If we need you to testify in court, will you do it?' 'Absolutely not. If your attorney needs something, he can call my husband. I will not speak directly to you again.'
It was surreal. I hung up and stayed on the floor in child's pose until the world stopped spinning and my breathing slowed down to normal. I just held my baby in my arms, heart and mind's eye until things felt real again.
Before my hiatus (or whatever it ends up being), I have another story to tell.
I was almost at the end of the first trimester of my pregnancy. I was home one day, and the phone rang. It was a local number, but not one that I recognized. The man on the other end announced that he was the SlutChild's current boyfriend. He claimed that he was calling because he was trying to break up with her and (SURPRISE), she had gone nutsos. He was (also) married, and the SlutChild was basically stalking his wife. He was calling me to beg for advice on how to 'handle her'. I was sick. How did he even know who I was? Well, he said that she loved to brag about how awful she had been to me - apparently using my name all the while - so he had simply looked me up in the phone book.
SERIOUSLY?! And he wanted me to give him advice? Um, no. At this point, we were less than a year out from the end of the affair, and less than 6 months out from the last time she had invaded our lives. There was NO way that I was going to give her any reason to waltz back in. This dumbass was the same kind of dumbass that The Man had been. That meant that he was completely snookered by her manipulations. This also meant that if I said anything against her, there was a 90% chance that he would blurt out exactly what I said and that it was me who had said it to him. No way.
I told him 'Nobody handles her. She is her own woman. When she decides that she's done with you, she will leave.' Since I was paraphrasing things that she had previously screamed at me, I figured it was safe to say them... and say them I did... over and over. He was devastated that I wouldn't say more. 'Please, just tell me how you got rid of her!' I simply repeated my new mantra. He grabbed at another straw - 'We have a lawyer and we're building a legal case against her. If we need you to testify in court, will you do it?' 'Absolutely not. If your attorney needs something, he can call my husband. I will not speak directly to you again.'
It was surreal. I hung up and stayed on the floor in child's pose until the world stopped spinning and my breathing slowed down to normal. I just held my baby in my arms, heart and mind's eye until things felt real again.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
follow up
In case you are wondering, vodka is NOT a solution. It is at best a stop-gap measure, and a lousy one at that.
The Man had a really rough day yesterday as well, so he was overjoyed at the opportunity to break our self imposed 'no drinking during the week' ban. He was also happy to stop on his way home to purchase something harder than the wine that we've limited ourselves to lately.
Suffice it to say that we (I?) hit that stupid bottle too hard. We're not twenty any more, and have been out of the bar scene for quite a while so we're out of practice :-P
I am lethargic and headache-y today. I can't even form a coherent thought never mind compose a decent blog post or think about my feelings.
The Man had a really rough day yesterday as well, so he was overjoyed at the opportunity to break our self imposed 'no drinking during the week' ban. He was also happy to stop on his way home to purchase something harder than the wine that we've limited ourselves to lately.
Suffice it to say that we (I?) hit that stupid bottle too hard. We're not twenty any more, and have been out of the bar scene for quite a while so we're out of practice :-P
I am lethargic and headache-y today. I can't even form a coherent thought never mind compose a decent blog post or think about my feelings.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Send it Out
So, I've managed to freak myself out a bit today. I posted a comment in response to a blog that I read. Because of the nature of the blog post, and the content of my response, instead of linking to my regular (Mama, Crafting, Cooking, Light-Hearted Stories) blog, I linked to this one.
Now I'm a bit wigged out. I started this blog in order to put an end to the machinations of a manipulative irritant. I continued it as a forum to help work through my recurring and residual issues related to the affairs. Now I've put it out there for people to find. In fact, I practically put a neon sign on it and said 'Come on by! I've got something to say!'
Here's the part where my own self-esteem issues check in with a huge 'Who do you think you are? Why would anyone want to read this?' I feel like I've spent too much time here playing Poke The Bear, and not enough time talking about the real stuff. Granted, I've only been writing here for a month and a half. When I look at it that way, it seems like maybe I've gotten through quite a bit of the real stuff... *sigh*
So why did I link it if I wasn't ready for people to read it? I wanted to give a little background for the response that I had posted. I wanted for people to know that I wasn't just blithely spouting off about something that I didn't know anything about... Great. now I hear one of my oldest established behavioral patterns very clearly in this. It's the one that screams 'I Know What I'm Talking About. I'm Part of This. Here's Why You Should Listen to Me...' Yep. That one. The one that tries to hard and begs everyone to like it. Sooooo healthy. Soooo lovable.
Now there's the 'LOVE ME, I'M GOOD ENOUGH' monster calling up from my bruised psyche for attention. Add in the infuriating doctor's visit that I just returned home from, and you have the recipe for a headache. Guess who's not going to be cooking dinner tonight! That's right. The Wife Who Stayed. Guess who has two thumbs and will be stopping off for vodka and fancy olives on the way home! That's right, THIS GIRL :-P
Now I'm a bit wigged out. I started this blog in order to put an end to the machinations of a manipulative irritant. I continued it as a forum to help work through my recurring and residual issues related to the affairs. Now I've put it out there for people to find. In fact, I practically put a neon sign on it and said 'Come on by! I've got something to say!'
Here's the part where my own self-esteem issues check in with a huge 'Who do you think you are? Why would anyone want to read this?' I feel like I've spent too much time here playing Poke The Bear, and not enough time talking about the real stuff. Granted, I've only been writing here for a month and a half. When I look at it that way, it seems like maybe I've gotten through quite a bit of the real stuff... *sigh*
So why did I link it if I wasn't ready for people to read it? I wanted to give a little background for the response that I had posted. I wanted for people to know that I wasn't just blithely spouting off about something that I didn't know anything about... Great. now I hear one of my oldest established behavioral patterns very clearly in this. It's the one that screams 'I Know What I'm Talking About. I'm Part of This. Here's Why You Should Listen to Me...' Yep. That one. The one that tries to hard and begs everyone to like it. Sooooo healthy. Soooo lovable.
Now there's the 'LOVE ME, I'M GOOD ENOUGH' monster calling up from my bruised psyche for attention. Add in the infuriating doctor's visit that I just returned home from, and you have the recipe for a headache. Guess who's not going to be cooking dinner tonight! That's right. The Wife Who Stayed. Guess who has two thumbs and will be stopping off for vodka and fancy olives on the way home! That's right, THIS GIRL :-P
Monday, March 21, 2011
Stir it Up
We spent the weekend rearranging the house. The Man decided to set up a home office so that his weekends can be spent at home rather than in transit or at the office and I was ready to change it up a bit in the living room(s).
We are much better about it than we used to be, but we're mail hoarders. For years, every piece of mail that came into the house stayed in the house. We would let the bills and junk mail form these avalanche-prone piles that we would scoop up and cram into a bag or box if we were 'cleaning'. Then the bags and boxes would be consolidated into a larger bag or box and stuffed into a corner or under a bed or into a closet. We have boxes in our garage that have moved with us for over ten years because we're afraid to throw them out, yet we are too lazy to go through them.
Like I said, we're much better than we used to be, so there really aren't many new boxes, but the old ones are everywhere. In rearranging, we unearthed unacceptable amounts of junk. The Man borrowed a shredder and went to town getting rid of it. I was thrilled. Then I stopped to wonder if her was so shredder-happy because he wanted to be sure that every last bit of any possible paper trail from his affairs was gone. You know - receipts, phone bills, e-mails... Then I decided that if that's what he was doing, then GOOD. If there was anything to 'find', I've had two years to go through that crap and do so. If he wants rid our home of old ghosts and start fresh, then YAY!
We are much better about it than we used to be, but we're mail hoarders. For years, every piece of mail that came into the house stayed in the house. We would let the bills and junk mail form these avalanche-prone piles that we would scoop up and cram into a bag or box if we were 'cleaning'. Then the bags and boxes would be consolidated into a larger bag or box and stuffed into a corner or under a bed or into a closet. We have boxes in our garage that have moved with us for over ten years because we're afraid to throw them out, yet we are too lazy to go through them.
Like I said, we're much better than we used to be, so there really aren't many new boxes, but the old ones are everywhere. In rearranging, we unearthed unacceptable amounts of junk. The Man borrowed a shredder and went to town getting rid of it. I was thrilled. Then I stopped to wonder if her was so shredder-happy because he wanted to be sure that every last bit of any possible paper trail from his affairs was gone. You know - receipts, phone bills, e-mails... Then I decided that if that's what he was doing, then GOOD. If there was anything to 'find', I've had two years to go through that crap and do so. If he wants rid our home of old ghosts and start fresh, then YAY!
Friday, March 18, 2011
End In Sight
When the World's Most Amazing Baby (WMAB for short) arrived, The Man moved back in. He wanted to be here, I needed the help, and neither one of wanted to miss even one minute of her awesomeness. It was weird at first. We had no idea how to not be together, but our new truce felt odd. Were we a family or not? We just did our best to make it through each day. Mostly we stared at our baby and bought her stuff.
One night we took a walk. I was feeling brave, so I said 'tell me 3 good things about (SlutChild).' He asked why. I told him that she seemed to have some sort of hold on him, and since he seemed incapable of ridding himself of her, and she was part of his life, I needed to know something good about her. He stopped talking for a while. Then he said 'I can't think of anything to say.' 'Really, you can't give me one reason not to intensely dislike this woman?' 'No... and she's gone anyway.' I was skeptical. 'No, really. She's gone. After the last thing, I told her that I couldn't be her friend anymore and she got mad at me for jerking her around and now she's gone.'
When he said that, the tiny flicker of hope for our marriage that I had sheltered in my heart ignited into a flame. Maybe we could do this. Maybe I wasn't going to lose my life partner and the father of my child. Maybe the selfish jerk that I had seen all through my pregnancy was gone.
When WMAB was about 2 months old, The Man and I were standing together in the kitchen while I made dinner. The Man was talking about a friend of his and the foolishness that was going on in said friend's marriage. They had been talking divorce, but it looked like they were going to work it out. I just looked at him and said 'was our marriage worse than theirs?'
He said 'NO! Not by any means!'
'Well, then why do we have to get a divorce? Their marriage SUCKS and they're not getting a divorce.'
He came back with 'you don't want a divorce?'
'No, YOU wanted a divorce, and I didn't want to be married to someone who didn't love me.'
'I NEVER said that I didn't love you. I just said that I wasn't sure that I wanted to be married anymore.'
So we stood there and argued the semantics of the fight where I had heard him to say that he didn't love me anymore, but he claimed that he had really just said that he was unsure about the marriage part. I insisted that this was most definitely NOT the time to try and use lawyer-speak on me. He claimed that being a lawyer made it impossible for him to not use lawyer-speak. See, this is why you have to c-o-m-m-u-n-i-c-a-t-e. UGH! Whatever. By the end of the evening, we had decided to give our marriage another try.
It didn't happen overnight, and it was hard. It still is, but we got here. To this place where I trust him. To this time when we love each other and our family. There is more to tell, but not tonight. For tonight, the story ends here.
One night we took a walk. I was feeling brave, so I said 'tell me 3 good things about (SlutChild).' He asked why. I told him that she seemed to have some sort of hold on him, and since he seemed incapable of ridding himself of her, and she was part of his life, I needed to know something good about her. He stopped talking for a while. Then he said 'I can't think of anything to say.' 'Really, you can't give me one reason not to intensely dislike this woman?' 'No... and she's gone anyway.' I was skeptical. 'No, really. She's gone. After the last thing, I told her that I couldn't be her friend anymore and she got mad at me for jerking her around and now she's gone.'
When he said that, the tiny flicker of hope for our marriage that I had sheltered in my heart ignited into a flame. Maybe we could do this. Maybe I wasn't going to lose my life partner and the father of my child. Maybe the selfish jerk that I had seen all through my pregnancy was gone.
When WMAB was about 2 months old, The Man and I were standing together in the kitchen while I made dinner. The Man was talking about a friend of his and the foolishness that was going on in said friend's marriage. They had been talking divorce, but it looked like they were going to work it out. I just looked at him and said 'was our marriage worse than theirs?'
He said 'NO! Not by any means!'
'Well, then why do we have to get a divorce? Their marriage SUCKS and they're not getting a divorce.'
He came back with 'you don't want a divorce?'
'No, YOU wanted a divorce, and I didn't want to be married to someone who didn't love me.'
'I NEVER said that I didn't love you. I just said that I wasn't sure that I wanted to be married anymore.'
So we stood there and argued the semantics of the fight where I had heard him to say that he didn't love me anymore, but he claimed that he had really just said that he was unsure about the marriage part. I insisted that this was most definitely NOT the time to try and use lawyer-speak on me. He claimed that being a lawyer made it impossible for him to not use lawyer-speak. See, this is why you have to c-o-m-m-u-n-i-c-a-t-e. UGH! Whatever. By the end of the evening, we had decided to give our marriage another try.
It didn't happen overnight, and it was hard. It still is, but we got here. To this place where I trust him. To this time when we love each other and our family. There is more to tell, but not tonight. For tonight, the story ends here.
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