I have been getting bombarded with messages from random people I don't know. I haven't changed anything on my profile or joined any groups so I am confused. I tried my best to search the help section to see what to do. I am no technological genius but I followed the directions, some of which included deleting comments.
I thought, no big deal I'll delete my comments. Well it took forever, but was surprisingly enjoyable. I got to glimpse over them and remember what was going on when they were posted. I got to see how silly my friends are. I got to remember how wonderful they are too. I blogged about my miscarriage. Not exactly a fun subject but I had to find some way to let some of that hurt out, and writing worked. Melissa put up a comment that said "Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, he became a butterfly". I still think it is one of the most lovely quotes. In my self indulgent anger and sadness I could not see the world going on, but thank goodness it has.
I have been thinking about that baby who wasn't meant to be a lot lately. I would be about to pop and due any minute had I not miscarried. I feel guilty sometimes for being so happy about being pregnant with Tate. I don't know what you are supposed to do? I don't want to forget that little life who was mine for only a couple weeks. I guess most people just go on about there day to day and push it out of their thoughts. I am ever reminded of it while going through this pregnancy.
The first few months this go round felt like skating on thin ice. I never wanted to be too happy, for fear it would be taken away. I still don't want to act to assured that everything will go perfectly. I won't wash any clothes or remove any tags from anything we've bought her. I just put the few things I've gotten in a box in the closet. She won't even have a nursery set up in this house. We'll be moving a couple weeks after I have her so there's no point. I am so excited, but just don't want to take this miracle for granted.
I am "Baby Hungry". I never heard that phrase til living in Utah. But it makes perfect sense. I am nearing thirty and the sight of a tiny baby makes me crazy. I think most women go through this. I never felt this way before having Turner. Before the November night I had my boy I didn't know what I missing. I like holding babies, smelling them, feeling their little soft bodies curl into yours, but there is nothing like holding your own child. That feeling doesn't go away.
When Turner gets up from nap I still can't wait to hug him. His hair all smushed up and sleep still in his voice, warm from the covers. He's my happiness. He was "fixing" my hair yesterday morning (Sesame St had a hair theme). I pulled the ponytail holder out and let him run his fingers through it. I looked a mess, not yet dressed for the day, still in my robe. Turner worked hard and was concentrating. He got every strand just the way he wanted it, then looked at me and said "You're perfect Mommy". He's two and doesn't know what a phrase like that does to a woman's heart. I have the Mother of Boy syndrome and he's only making it worse. Yes, he'll always be perfect in my eyes. No, no one will ever be truly good enough for him. But I know that I am not alone.
Being on Myspace allows me to talk with other people who are all crazy in their own way. I have decided that every single person is crazy, but in a good way. Those who think they aren't are the ones you have to watch out for. I know other Mothers of Boys feel the exact same way about their little princes. I know all the moms on my friends list worry, loose ti from time to time, and are all great roll models. I know the ones who put comments up care enough to say hello. So I guess these were just my random thoughts after reading eight months of comments from my buddies.
No comments:
Post a Comment