Tuesday, October 21, 2008

This 'n that

I eat stuff off the floor. MY floor, I mean. Okay, and maybe my Mom's floor. And other floors belonging to people whose homes and feet look especially clean.

I'm a firm believer in the 5 second rule, particularly where chocolate is involved. Or candy. Or anything sweet, really.

So I was kind of gob-smacked to discover that my 8-year old niece is not a follower of said edict. She fumbled a fresh-out-of-the-oven cookie while she was at our place on the weekend, and, giggling at her clumsiness, threw it out.

THREW. IT. OUT.

I'm not exactly sure what I'm more bothered by here - the loss of a perfectly good cookie, or the fact that apparently small children have better food-related hygiene than I do.

I mean, it's not like I keep a fork in my pocket in case I see something interesting laying in a discarded heap on the sidewalk or anything. But a cookie meeting tile for less than a fraction of a second? Come on - that's totally good to go!

Right?

Right?

Uh...right?
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The other night I had a dream that I had a baby. One of those I've-woken-up-and-it-was-so-vivid-it-must-be-real dreams.

Soul crushing.

But the problem is, in addition to the cloud of sorrow it cast over me, it's made me start second guessing the decision I made about not having "just one more surgery".

Because what if...?

Fuck.

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I often wonder if, once the baby-making days are long gone, all this will still consume me the way it does now. The what ifs. The regrets.

Thomas.

What will it be like, as a mother in mourning 20 years from now when all hope truly is lost and my lady bits have ceased to function at all? How will I feel then?

I think about Thomas so much. Not all the time, but still, so very, very much.

I suppose parents of living children think about their little ones as much as I think about Thomas. Probably a lot more.

Tonight I'll take comfort in that, given that it makes me feel less like a lunatic for regularly finding myself caught in trances filled with images of my boy.

I miss him. So much it feels like it could eat me alive.

__________________________

A friend posted this on her blog on October 15th.

I need to pass it along...

Don't Tell Me...

Don't tell me that you understand, don't tell me that you know,
Don't tell me that I will survive, how I will surely grow.
Don't tell me this is just a test, that I am truly blessed,
That I am chosen for this task, apart from all the rest.
Don't come at me with answers that can only come from me,
Don't tell me how my grief will pass, that I will soon be free.
Don't stand in pious judgment of the bonds I must untie,
Don't tell me how to suffer, don't tell me how to cry.
My life is filled with selfishness, my pain is all I see,
But I need you, I need your love, unconditionally.
Accept me in my ups and downs, I need someone to share,
Just hold my hand and let me cry, and say,
"My friend, I really do care."

Author Unknown


Beautifully said. So beautifully said.

8 comments:

Molly said...

Dang, I'm a believer in the 5 hour rule. And I am sure my floor is much filthier than yours. Builds your immune system, right? My family is much healthier than my much more fastidious friend's, but that could just be a coincidence.

Rosepetal said...

I would have eaten it!
I needed that poem two years ago. There are many people I could have sent it to. (((hugs)))

Catherine said...

Promise me you won't let it eat you alive.

G said...

I love that poem, thank you for sharing it.

And was it a melty gooey cookie? Because even I draw the line at licking the floor where it landed :)

Erin said...

I would have totally eaten the cookie.

AnnaMarie said...

I would have picked up the cookie too! Perhaps she just hasn't learned about the 5 second rule yet, being young and all.

I'm sorry about the dream. What a sad reality to wake up to. I don't know your entire story since I'm kind of a new reader but maybe second guessing isn't so wrong ... go ahead a yell at me if I'm way out of line. I just see few things wrong with changing your mind, then changing it again.

Beth said...

I agree the cookie was totally edible or eatable whatever.

I really DO care.

I have a friend who fought the battle and lost three children in the third trimester. She says once her "lady bits" stop working she felt totally freed like she could breath again. I hope you don't need to find out but there it is fwiw.

that camel woman said...

Hello.
First time I have commented.
I'm so sorry for your loss and the fact that you are still struggling to have a live baby.
It is 22 years today since my twin daughters were prematurely born/died.
Just want to tell you that after years of being very distressed on this day, the pain does lessen, but the love grows.
I now see the grief as a tribute.
I was extremely fortunate (thanks to a cervical stitch) to have two live children (now aged 17 and 20).
I was shocked when they were born that they didn't lessen the pain of the loss but they did lessen the pain of not achieving the motherhood that enabled me to actually be a hands on mother.
You are still a mother.
I love my twin daughters just as much as the son and daughter that followed.... exactly the same.

I hope with all my heart that you are able to have the experience of motherhood in the full sense.
But you ARE a mother now.
With much love and my very best wishes.
Christa xx