Dru Blood - I believe in the inherent goodness of all beings: 1996

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« It's bothering me... | Main | Happy New Year. »

1996

January 1, 2005

Ouch. This account of the beginnings of my life as a mama are both painful and illustrative.

12/30/1996 8:30 PM

I think I'm finally beginning to get this mommy stuff down. Today's discovery - keeping baby clean and dry makes him far less fussy. This means changing him whenever he is awake and wet. His diaper rash is nearly gone and he is sleeping peacefully and not fussing a bit. A simply concept that somehow totally escapted me. This and the realization that he probably had a growth spurt last week, thus the hourly feedings...and so on.

but some things I do not want to forget. His cry squeal that he emits when he's on the verge of a crying jag. His little pouty face he gets just before he explodes and how red it gets. Mostly, though, the way he seems to almost pat my back when he's resting on my chest with his arms over my shoulder. And his wake-up ritual - how long it takes him to wake out of a sound sleep. He is an angel. Absolutely.

And me - four weeks left on my maternity leave. I'm starting to really enjoy not working. L has slacked off on helping with the household stuff - most likely because he's burnt out, but still. I think the ting I'm dreading most about going back to work is him...will he totally burn out, or will he throw himself at the task at hand?

And then there's my failing - our sex life. There are times, although they are painfully brief - when I am intensely attracted to L...but mostly sex is the last thing on my mind, except when I'm feeling guilty about my lack of a sex drive. I want to want him - but I just don't feel any urges. i guess I just need to be patient. But I also guess it's not my ability to be patient that I'm worried about. Regardless - forcing anything just makes me feel fake...but if I don't really feel the urge to initiate something, I'm not going to.

I do feel like I would like another child at some point. I suppose that would require sex.

I should be napping now, but I can't get myself to do that, no matter how much sense it makes and no matter how tired I am!

I still need to write my account of the birth. Answering mail, taking a shower and feeling the need to just sit down in the water. Watching Nightmare before Christmas (I barely remember that - the pain makes it all hazy) the hold music at the medical exchange, the pain. Crying into a pillow, doubled over on the bed. Getting into a stupid bicker fight with L and paranoically thinking he was intentionally hitting bumps in the road, getting out of the car and having to sit down, the doctor's office and the grim woman, the walk to the hospital, the emergency room - trying not to throw up, wondering if L would find me when they wheeled me to my room, but not really thinking about it or at all curious when L did find me. The blood. The toilet. Throwing up carrots. Shitting all over. The IV, the monitors, the pain. Feeling like I wasn't going to be able to handle the pain, the exhaustion...it's vivid, but in a played-out way like an old familiar movie I've seen a million times. I have no recollection of the actual pain except that which I felt at separation. And it's odd, too...that first night in the hospital...at first I didn't even think about the baby. Was that denial or was it from the medication?

1/2/1996 3:00 PM

Having a hard time with things. L runs hot and cold and I can't keep up with his needs. He has unreasonable expectations of me and is always talking about how I'm trying to force him into a mold. My mind slips, occasionally - I think about leaving. I know that is the wrong way out, but there are times when I lose hope. He is so concerned about his needs being met, he leaves no room for mine - and all changes he makes are against his will. I would rather he not do something at all than do something and then bitch about it for weeks. It's the same old shit. So now, on top of worrying about making everything work, I have to worry about whether or not it's just over with L. Is this a temporary feeling?

After a day of perfect timing for Monk, today it's feeding frenzy and grumpiness. His diaper rash has flared up again, along with his appetite and his temper. So I have to deal with L fucking with my head and Monk's fussiness. Those things in themselves are enough to wear me down, and L acts like I'm lazy because I don't want to do the laundry. I feel like I'm on a sinking ship. In the hold. With the rats.

Monk's umbilical stump fell off on either the 28th or the 29th. I meant to sit down and write about how I felt when that happened...in fact, I thought I had, but I didn't. Now the feelings are all muddled with the anger and frustration I feel right now.

Then there's my mom. Any time I talk to her about baby stuff, she tries to prove me wrong. She always seems to want to bring up the "crying it out" thing. She just can't face that I don't let Monk cry without comforting him or at least trying to.

Maybe I just hate everyone today. It sure sounds that way! I don't know that I want to be writing these feelings down.

L and I talked about buying this house today. It seemed to make him happy, but I don't know. He says he just acts happy to please me. I don't know if anything would ever make him happy for real. But if he wants to really go to school, we'll have to stay in Texas so he won't have to establish residency elsewhere. I don't know. There's so much shit flying around in my brain I can't even tell one feeling from another.

1/3/1997 4:45 PM
The turbulence of the past couple of days seems to be over. It passes as swiftly and as uneventfully as it swoops in. Like clouds lifting to reveal blazing sunshine - so bright your eyes can't get used to the darkness when it happens again. I suppose this is the way my life will pass from now on. The highs quietly compensating for the lows.

Monk seems cheerful enough. Perhaps he senses tension, for he seemed so much fussier during the difficulty. Today he is happy - smiling even. He likes to touch L's scruffy face. This morning he fell asleep in my arms as I read Berto's Incubus. Hatred for the father. Resentment. I want L and Monk to have a symbiotic relationship. There are some aspects of life - male life - that I don't understand. Right now he is very attached to me because I am here, but I sense he has an inquisitive love for L. "Who is this man who handles me with gruff compassion?" he seems to say. He looks at us so strangely, like he is trying to comprehend another world. I know he is trying to figure out who he is partially by examining who we are. There is such innocence in those eyes. I know that's a very trite thing to say, but there's no other way to express the way he looks at things with an undending wonder and amazement. My heart melts. I want him to know how very much I love him. I hope that he always knows.

I finally am beginning to enjoy breastfeeding, not simply tolerate it. I guess I just "get it" now. Let down is a feeling that is warm and familiar - makes me feel connected to someone/something. This is me, nourishing another human being. Keeping him alive by fluids my body produces. Monk often holds my hand while he eats. I wonder...I think he's starting to understand the connection, as well. I haven't seen him try to nurse from anyone but me and L, on occasion. It's this connection that helps me when I am frustrated. That makes me want to keep things sane with me and L. he needs us. Both of us. We all need each other. L said we are all one person. I guess we each have a different part to play, but there is no definition of that part - or rather a constantly changing definition...

Posted at January 1, 2005 4:49 PM

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Comments

Wow. What a window into the past. It is like reading the prologue to who and what you are on this blog. Powerful stuff.

I have a question-- The post shows that he did not slide into the responsibility's of helping-- But, did he bond with the child in the early stages? Thanks for sharing.

Posted by: Mquest at January 2, 2005 4:39 PM

When I read these old journals where I'm blaming myself for sexual trauma, I want to go back in time and comfort myself. I'm angry because he was so impatient with my recovery from the birth (which was highly traumatic to me) and didn't give me adequate time and space AND I took it on myself - blamed myself for the time it was taking - rather than forgiving myself and demanding a safe place for that recovery.

That said, he did bond with Monk. Shortly after I returned to work, he broke his leg and was out on disability leave for a number of weeks. It gave him an excuse to not do anything BUT sit there with the baby in his lap for awhile, and I think that helped them, but it didn't make my life any easier.

Posted by: drublood at January 3, 2005 9:31 AM