Thursday, April 27, 2006

Nothing music can't fix

The wheels fell off my little red wagon yesterday.

With the wise words of some friends I am still overwhelmed at being blessed to have, a phone call to Dad and some playing with Pepper and Jazz, I felt much better by the time Steve came home.

Issues surrounding the inability of people in my life to just leave me be, to have these moments without having to justify why. Of assuming that my growing Lollybelly does not signal the end of my grief.... but rather, in some bizarre respects, enhances or spotlights it.

I am so exhausted from trying to point these things out to too many people who should know how to support us better, but who don't. I'm tired of excusing them when they're so seemingly intent on not letting me go at my own pace. Steve and I discussed last night that I'm allowing the actions of so few overshadow the good, decent, easy relationships we have with so many more. Our dinner guests on Saturday night, for a perfect example. Wonderful and easy to be around. At the end of the night when we'd all dispersed to different areas of the house to chill out, one of them leaned in to me and in a rare moment of seriousness (because he's a blessed dag) enquired "Now.... are we going to need to watch out for you, all hormones and jokes aside?" I nearly collapsed on him there and then and said "Take it all away now! In a tip truck. Please!" Instead, composed, I thanked him profusely and said "Yes please, all three of us." It's such a relief to know that, as he and his wife said, we don't have to do or explain anything. We simply have to see them. They'll take care of the rest. I know that. And it's such a relief, I can't even explain how much.

Back to yesterday, though, I was also starting to feel gripped from the inside out with fear that something may well go wrong this time too, which has been pointed out to me on several occasions is the fear of "all expectant mothers". But, see, it's that last little three letter word which widens the chasm between me (and grieving mothers like me) and other expectant mothers - not "all" of us at all.

That little word... "too"... it changes everything.
It means as well.
It means what if something happens this time AS WELL.
And it hurts to have it said to me that I am going through what any other mother goes through.

I'm not trying to be precious here. I'm stating a fact, how I feel. It's akin to when I was told that "all mothers are sad on their child's first birthday, particularly their first child." Erm.... except I didn't think I needed to point out to this person the blatantly obvious fact that, uh, my child wasn't here for her first birthday. It was so hurtful to be so invalidated by that one flippant, off-the-cuff remark and I found it very difficult to find something within myself to forgive the person for being so way off the mark.

After talking to Dad, I felt much better. Dad's a very logical man. He's a Doctor of Civil Engineering, a title which means little to me in terms of understanding what he does but makes me burst with pride that he's someone who's made a huge dint in his industry and is known in his field worldwide. Not necessarily liked by all, but respected for his intelligence and ability to put forth a point nonetheless. I inherited from him my deep sense of moral justice. Unfortunately, I also inherited from the other side of the family a crazy self-victimisation technique. I like to call it chatterbox brain.

My chatterbox brain just would not SHUT UP yesterday until Dad rationalised away my proclamations. He didn't patronise, he never once said I was being unreasonable or silly. Quite the contrary, he masterfully Jedi-mind-tricked me to calmness and laughter by agreeing with me and saying lots of "yes of courses" and "mmm I can't imagines" in the most tender tone. And he talked me through what we DO know: that by now with all the monitoring I've been having, an unbalanced translocation of mystery is off the cards - 99.5% certainty of that - the heart makeup appears to be perfect, growth rates are above par...... and that all these other things I'm conjuring up that "could" happen, well, as he said "Why would you want to add in more risk factors when you've dodged the ones that are most likely for you?"

He's right. It was as if I dropped the heavy cloak I'd been struggling to keep up round my shoulders. I immediately felt lighter. And cried huge sobs of relief that I have these intelligent people in my life to carry me this last little part.

So I celebrate this morning with a good dose of loud iTunes random plays from our extensive and diverse mix. I just finished I Go To Rio and am now rawkin' to Trick Me by Kelis. Is that wrong? Oh, next we have Everyone Deserves Music by dear young Michael Franti. Gotta go. Jig to dance.


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