July, 2010

27 Jul

I looked at the calendar today and my throat closed. If I don’t write something, save something, say something – this month will disappear. I suppose that one day I will look back on this time with fondness, and I want to remind that girl looking through rose-tinted glasses of time that this month sucked. It was the longest month of my life, and the month where I felt like I was wearing my heart on the outside.

There were amazing highlights, to be sure. I had a baby shower. That sentence blows my mind, cause like . . . I’m not pregnant . . . but people came and bought me presents and my babymama was there and it was so surreal, all of it, that at one point I went and hid in my mothers room. I was going to text the only other real life person I know who is infertile, who was a brave fucking solider and was at that moment downstairs at my baby shower being lovely despite the heartache I know she had – and realized that I didn’t have her new number. Then I made the terrible mistake of picking up my grandmothers old bottle of Chanel No. 5 that my mom keeps, and I smelled and it rocked me back onto the bed. Which, by the way, my parents bed is in my other grandmothers old room. I just sat there, longing for them both – they would NOT HAVE BELIEVED HOW THIS IS GOING DOWN! They would hug me, one roughly like you want to be hugged when you really hurt, and one softly like you want to be hugged when you need love, and they were missing it and I was missing them, and there were thirty-five people down in the backyard waiting for me to open a mound of presents and I just knew then that the exact moment I was having was the moment that would best define July 2010. I was happy and heartbroken and anxious and grateful and reflective and terrified.

I am all of those things, all of the time. Not happy one minute and terrified the next – I am all of those things AT THE SAME TIME. I am also experiencing a wicked case of nesting, which I am grateful for (I didn’t know if I would, since I am not the actual pregnant one) but which also frightens me. I cleaned the inside of my washing machine with a toothbrush, people. I’m not proud of it, but that’s the reality of July 2010.

What has sustained us this month has been anything that doesn’t require one extra brain cell, which we can’t afford to use because that is what is what is reminding us to breath in and out. We can’t even muster up the attention span to watch a romantic comedy, it’s straight-up reality television only. We have been eating a lot of easy, comfort food. We talk about her a lot. We do a pretty good job of working through the freak-out moments. We get in bed every night at 9:00, and I lie with her blankets and he stares at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, his elbows poking out, and we wonder about her. I’ve only said it once, but that is all it needed to be said: if it doesn’t work now, it’s too late. It’s gone too far, it’s catastrophic. He says: you have to keep the faith. How many times has he said that? I need it each time.

It may seem melodramatic, this version of July 2010. Maybe it is, this is the most vulnerable I have ever been. Really though, I don’t think so.
People ask me what it is like. I have no good answer. It is everything, all at once.


12 Responses to “July, 2010”

  1. Liz 07/27/2010 at 5:57 pm #

    Oh my love. This is it. The way you feel now is the way you’ll feel pretty much for the rest of your life. You get used to it. You stop noticing after a while. But this is it. Today, four and a half years after the birth of my only child, I called my husband and just shrieked about how could I love this horrible little human so much? He can’t even read. I still have to wipe his butt. But he is my reason for living every moment. And that is the most beautiful & terrifying reality of my life. I’ve said it a million times: parenting means you have no more skin. For better or for worse.

    I’ve missed you here. So glad to read your words. This is going to be so, so great. You’re going to be SO GREAT at this.

    • lswan 07/29/2010 at 2:38 pm #

      Thank you, thank you, thank you. While I find it terrifying that I am going to feel like this forever, I always find comfort in your words of wisdom, and I always laugh. But wait, seriously: when do they start wiping their own asses?

  2. Lelo 07/27/2010 at 9:02 pm #

    I’ve been poisoned by Facebook and all I can say is that I keep searching for the LIKE button for this post.

    • lswan 07/29/2010 at 2:38 pm #

      I always find myself looking for the LIKE button. It’s much easier than all the click-through and commenting. πŸ™‚ Thanks for clicking through for me.

  3. Amber 07/28/2010 at 7:05 am #

    Do you remember taking me to breakfast the day I went in to labor? We all piled in to your dad’s big’em truck and went to Miller’s (miss that place) and ate to our heart’s content. Then I went home and vacuumed for hours, and my house only had carpet in one room. I also refolded clothes for the 100th time and then also cleaned my washing machine! I couldn’t figure out why I had to pee every minute (literally) and then found out that I had been in labor for more than 7 hours. Damn…I don’t think I was ever really expecting a baby.

    Now, 13yrs later, I have a beautiful daughter that will scream at me and then tell me a secret 5 minutes later. Or won’t talk to me for some reason or another, but then will lay her head on me for comfort. We just have to keep taking good with the bad – especially being a parent.

    I love your explanations of life Lindsey. Your situation is much different than most of ours, but I think you were the person to handle it best. I wish I could say that these feelings go away, but they just change. And being a parent is the best feeling of all. Love you.

    PS – You know how much I envy people that have good partners through this experience!?! : ) You found a good guy Linds.

    • lswan 07/29/2010 at 2:40 pm #

      Oh, Amber. I love your face off. I do remember that day, and I can’t even begin to understand how it has been 13 years since then. How lucky I am to have had you in my life this long! I love you too.

    • lswan 07/29/2010 at 2:42 pm #

      Also, what IS IT with cleaning things that are supposed to clean? I cleaned my vacuum cleaner the other day too, and I was thinking: aren’t these bitches supposed to clean themselves?

  4. Raz 07/29/2010 at 1:25 am #

    This is just a lovely post.

    I hope you absolutely revel and enjoy the coming months. You deserve it.

    • lswan 07/29/2010 at 2:40 pm #

      Thanks, Raz. Dig you! πŸ™‚

  5. Cathy Rowley 07/31/2010 at 10:23 am #

    I am loving you.

    • lswan 08/02/2010 at 6:32 am #

      No, you.

  6. Desiraie 10/26/2010 at 6:10 pm #

    Just reading this for the first time. Wow, friend. Tears here. Not sure how it is that every time I read your posts I never fail to laugh, truly laugh out loud, the kind that comes from deep within; and also shed sentimental tears. I love you! I’m proud of you! And I really want you to be a writer. I would read EVERY book!

    P.S. I really wouldn’t have missed that shower for anything.

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