A Gift of Violet

Violet was born almost a week and two days ago. Thirty hours of intense contractions...an epidural for about half that time. I endured hours and hours of pain I never knew before, only to result in a cesarean leaving me with lingering pain from that as well. For my first several hours of recovery, I couldn't even hold my baby girl but I was able to have her rested beside me. As I first came to after the operation, I heard a baby crying, I heard word of a little girl (we had kept her sex a surprise) and I heard my husband's voice as he cooed over our inconsolable little one. I heard that I had a daughter and I immediately began to cry. The love I carried inside for thirty-nine and a half weeks was now on the outside, screaming to the world that she was here and I was in tears from the pain and the confusion but mostly, my sobs were brought by joy mixed with disbelief. My baby was here. Violet Phoenix was here.

She came home with us on October 31^st, our six-year anniversary. This past week has been physically and emotionally taxing. Even with my wonderful husband helping me around the clock, recovering from a major abdominal surgery while caring for a newborn is no simple task. However, I am in constant awe at the amount of love I feel for this tiny person and I often fear that this is all a dream. If it is, I hope to never wake from it. She is everything to me. I look at her beautiful little face, I run my hand gently across her silken hair and I often weep as this incredible love bursts from the fragile shell of my being.

Knowing that she almost never was, mystifies and frightens me. We weren't going to have a child. We didn't think we should. We're broke and struggling. We have health issues. We had a million excuses as to why we shouldn't, even though being a mother was what I wanted more than anything in the world. There were countless times when I would find myself sneaking out to the kitchen in the middle of the night to secretly cry tears of longing and regret, thinking the greatest gift in all the universe would never be mine.

Last night, as she slept, I gently caressed my beautiful baby's face, listening to one of the CDs I made for our stay in the hospital and one of the song's from George's iPod came on. I looked down at my lovely daughter and was filled with a combination of heart-wrenching loss and soul-igniting gain all in the same inward breath. The cycle of life, love, pain and death all moved with a bitter-sweet grace all about me and I sat at the center of its light. It was George's death that made us realize the frailty of it all and how nothing is guaranteed. It was George's death that gave us the courage to take hold of what we want. Fear should never keep us from life's gifts and losing my baby brother made it so crisp and so clear. Were it not for my greatest loss, I would not be experiencing my greatest joy. Humbled, dizzied and weak, I marvel through my tears at this incredible cycle of events and I hope that from wherever he is, George can look down at his tiny niece and be proud knowing that he helped bring her to us. Violet will surely grow up with stories about Uncle George and how large and full of love he was.

Thank you, baby brother. Thank you for this gift. I miss you more than I could ever fully express but I am eternally grateful for what you have given me. I will cherish this always, I promise.  

What breaking free feels like...

I think most of us have worked in places that were less than ideal. Some of these jobs may have even been downright miserable. I spent five years in such an environment. I won't name the employer or the manager who made my life hell because I don't want to be that petty and I know that any future employer could potentially see this post. Maybe I shouldn't be posting at all but I really feel strongly that it is worth talking about. 

I don't need to go into huge detail. It was a call center. Call center work can be grueling in and of itself due to the fact that people are much more likely to be abusive to you over the phone than in person. It really can take some getting used to. There were good days and bad days as far as the calls were concerned. Some days, I dealt with people who made me smile. Some days it felt like everyone who called was a mean-spirited asshole. My favorite calls were the ones that started out with someone screaming or threatening and ended with things like, "Thank god! You are the first person who has ever helped me! I'm sorry if I was angry. Thank you so much!". I really felt like I accomplished something on those calls and they actually made me feel good about my job.

So yes, call center work has its ups and downs and it can be mentally and emotionally draining. That is something I can deal with. When you add to it a ruthless, vindictive manager who thrives on controlling people with fear, what could be a tolerable and even enjoyable work environment becomes a living nightmare. My bully boss was a woman and I wasn't the only one who had trouble with her. She made life miserable for most people and as is often the case, the company didn't care to do anything about it, despite numerous and valid complaints. She was a textbook case of the queen bee boss. I know this, because she was just awful enough to spark my feverish studies of relational aggression and abusive bosses. What I learned was that you really can't defeat them. All you can do is get away from them. 

So why did I stay so long? I mean, I was truly miserable. We're talking, sitting on the sofa, sobbing myself stupid before work, miserable. I had multiple reasons. I needed the insurance, the job market was (and still is) absolutely awful...mostly, I was afraid. Being the sole income provider and barely surviving made jumping into something else highly risky. I felt stuck, as did a lot of my colleagues, and she used that fear and feeling of helplessness against us with a merciless fury. Just about everyone went through periods of being picked on before she moved onto someone else. She was clearly a miserable person and had the constant expression that lead me to wonder if someone farted and only she could smell it. I wanted to get away from her so badly but I just couldn't figure out how. I was sick of her demoralizing lectures and inappropriate comments behind closed doors. I was tired of wondering what sort of abuse I would endure during my next employee evaluation or what kind of inappropriate judgments and threats she would make whenever I got sick and couldn't come to work. 

I won't go into detail about the events that lead to my freedom as there is nearly a novel's worth. I will say that after the death of my brother and the near-fatal wounding of my ex-boyfriend only a month and a half later, I learned a lot about how fragile any circumstance can be and that there are no guarantees. I had already been a part-time college student for about a year, supplementing my income with grants and loans. After an inexcusable act of emotional abuse by this horrible woman, it dawned on me that it was time to make my escape, no matter how frightening or risky. I bumped my student status to full-time, increasing my school income to almost what my job brought in and I submitted a week's notice. Telling her to her face that I was leaving was one of the most thrilling and empowering moments of my life. She couldn't control me any more. 

I walked out of that pit of despair for the last time exactly one year ago and I am still positive that it was one of the best things I've ever done for myself. I realized that even though it can take a while to find the exit, we are not always as stuck as we think we are. I wish more of my former co-workers would come to this conclusion and free themselves. This past year has been full of uncertainty, tremendous financial struggle...and extreme gratitude. I still have nightmares about her on occasion, which I've read is fairly normal. They won't last forever. Besides, I've already had a confidence boost from the work study job I had for a few months afterward. It was quite a change going from one female boss who belittled and abused me to one who actually said I was an asset to the company! It was sad when work study funds were cut. I found a lot of healing in that place and much of my dignity was returned to me. 

So, today as I muddle through maddening algebra assignments, I am also pausing to be grateful for the leap I was finally strong enough to make. Now, for the first time in my life, I see a future unfolding before me. It isn't with out its struggle and uncertainty but I am much stronger and I have vowed to myself that I will never allow myself to live through that kind of abuse again. I will never allow myself to be controlled by fear.

Some time before I made my escape, a friend of mine had freed herself from a bad situation. This is what she said it felt like. Now I know that feeling, too. Very powerful!

To George or Violet:

My dreams are cluttered as usual but for a time in that realm, you had already arrived and I held you. Sometimes you're a boy, other times, a girl...the dreams don't always say because that part doesn't matter to me. You were a boy this time, so I knew your name. You were so tiny and warm. I had to make sure to support your head as I lifted you and brought your warmth to rest on me. You are my most sacred gift and when you arrive, I will cry, I will hold you, I will sing songs to you. There will be stories and games and naps and fussing. There will be adventures and things to learn and see. I've got a whole world to show you. But mostly, I just want to hold onto you knowing that you are the most beautiful and wondrous thing in the universe. I can't wait to meet you on the outside.


Love, 
Mommy

Purging the Poison

Eliminating a poisonous situation from your life sometimes involves consequences. Today, I feel like I cut a piece of my heart out. However, had I not, the poison may well have corroded the rest of my life and I could already feel it turning me sour. Self-preservation it seems, can come with sacrifice. As I spent the majority of my afternoon and evening blinded by angry, bitter and mournful tears, I pondered the validity of my actions. Am I just needlessly alienating people and making enemies where I don't need to? Is this justified? After much deliberation, I decided that by removing this poison and eliminating these people, one of whom I love beyond all definition was all I could do for the time-being. The situation had just become too painful and this person whom I love comes with a stack of woes that I am presently ill-equipped to handle. He didn't get it and I don't expect him to. As his somewhat understandable seething toward my actions cauterizes this amputation, my need to protect myself and my little family are the only bandage I have. It weeps as I do but for now, it's what I've got. I wished him well and expressed my love then hung up the phone in a crumpled mess of sobs and rage. It shouldn't be like this. It really didn't have to go this way...but it did. Now it's time to pick up the pieces, embrace what I am protecting and hope that eventually there will be a cure for this. There has to be. I just have no way of finding it at this time.

It is not the first time I've had to eliminate a person from my life and I'm sure it won't be the last. I spent years as a doormat, taking on the problems of others to be bludgeoned by drama-filled consequences in the end. It took a long time to wise up and learn to protect myself. Even if cutting someone off completely seems drastic (and sometimes it is), self-preservation has become that important. I've learned the hard way how far and deep betrayal can go. I've suffered great emotional and even a little physical damage in the past by not seeing a situation for what it was until it was too late. In recent years, I've gotten quite good at “cleaning house” without batting an eye and seldom feel sorry for doing so. I will not allow continuous pain brought by repeated toxic interactions with the same person or persons to cloud my already complicated life. Today I did feel sorry, though. What's keeping me sane through it is knowing that although it hurts, for the time being, I have brought myself and my little family some peace and quiet.

I'm willing to accept the idea that in the end, I was in the wrong...if there even is a wrong in this situation. Let me rephrase that: I am willing to accept the idea that my actions were not the most wise or beneficial. However, at this moment, while I suffer the loss, I can at least be sure that I acted in the best way I knew how for the moment and it was not just about protecting myself. Becoming a mother is changing me and my defensive claws are much less likely to stay hidden. I just hope that as I gain in ferocity and protectiveness, I also gain wisdom...even if it comes with pain. 

A walk back to myself.

For a short, blessed time this afternoon, the chaos broke and I stepped out of the apartment and into nature...into myself. With the sun overhead and the wind as my guide, I ventured down the same path I've traveled many times over. My bike is still broken, so today I used my feet. Walking was better today, anyway. As the playful and loving cool lifted my hair and my heart, guarding me from the heat of summer, my feet took me back...back to where I used to go to feel the pulse of everything; my “moments with Akasha” as I call them. As usual on these journeys, I was accompanied by music. George's iPod is still in need of repair, but I had my phone loaded with songs (some of them his favorites), ready to travel with me, ensuring passage from the mundane and into my own place of magic.

It had been too long. I feared that I was losing myself to hardening brought by the explosion of turmoil that has had me spinning and floundering through the duration of this pregnancy. I feared that I was losing this part of me. It seems that this isn't so...not entirely. Here in the mundane realm, the hardening is still taking place. I feel it like a stone shell coating my skin and my resolve. But even with all of this madness, all of this hardship and pain, when I step back into that place, I am fluid once again. I am particles of air and my spirit rides the summer breezes as my feet find connection with the center of all things, spiraling inward and out again...moving like deep and peaceful breaths. This time, I have someone with me. My little miracle, riding in my belly, taking a sacred walk with Mommy.

It occurred to me that I have been two people for so long, becoming one again might feel strange. Is that why women get depressed after they give birth? No matter. It will be the greatest gift in the universe to hold my baby in my arms and as my child grows, we will still take walks and bike rides together. I will show my little one where I find the magic and hopefully, I can pass that gift on.  

Tiny creatures hold so much love

Cats are amazing. At approximately 3:30am, I got up with my regularly-scheduled heartburn. Stopping to use the bathroom before heading for antacids and soy milk, I felt two tiny paws on my leg. It was Klaus Thomas the Nomi cat, our latest stray kitten. For some reason, as he sits here a ball on my lap, napping and purring, I can't help but marvel at the remarkable bond that can happen between us and these little creatures. And they are little, especially as kittens. Here I am, this massive giant...and this tiny creature puts his paws on me to say he wants my love and attention. I'd be terrified of something so large if I were so small! I certainly wouldn't be cuddling up to something so towering! It humbles and softens me like nothing else. I guess that's the thing I need to keep some of the hardening at bay as I undergo these painful transformations I've been experiencing. I cherish them so. Phoenix, who's time ended just a few weeks ago...and there's still Dia, Pharon and Bebe (my princess and guardian). Now, little Klaus Thomas has joined the fold and my heart is warmed to see and think of them. So too, is my lap warmed by his tiny, sleeping body. I'm not sure how it is that I've become such a mama cat but it's a position I will maintain proudly, even after my own little one is born. I love having animals in my life and I love all who share their lives with me. Cats, however, have a special spot. I really doubt I would fare well without them.

A cold transformation

I spent most of today in bed with severe dizzy spells. Apparently that can happen when you're pregnant. When I spoke to my OB's office a while back about it, I was told it had to do with all the extra blood in my body due to me and Baby. So apparently, it's nothing serious. Today was the first time I had a problem with it all day, though. Very frustrating. The apartment is a mess and Husband has been out and all I can do is lay in bed. As if I didn't already have enough to be frustrated about.

It seems as of late, that no matter what I set out to do or feel, something squashes it. It can be a random and weird circumstance, the words or actions of another or how I'm physically feeling. It's as if nothing is going the way it should and it's confusing me. I've been finding myself feeling something between rage, despair and just plain bewilderment.

Am I doing something wrong?

I'm trying, really trying to enjoy this pregnancy and get my school obligations out of the way without letting the weight of everything else crush me. What should be the happiest time of my life has instead, turned out to be the most distressful. How does that work?

Don't get me wrong...I have moments that are good. Right now the latest stray kitten Husband found is perched between myself and the keyboard, warming my spirit as best he can. For little things like this, I am grateful. They may be all that's keeping me sane. The rest of the time, when I smile and come off like things are going well, I feel so false. It's like I've put on this pathetic plastic shell and I'm hoping no one can see the places where it's cracking. Right now, at this moment, things do not feel okay. I don't feel okay. Does that make me ungrateful or just human?

I'm trying to make sense of this. I'm trying to learn and grow, taking the changes as they come. However, some of the changes I'm seeing frighten me. I'm learning that I am very resilient, which is something I never would have seen without having it pointed out to me. That part, I feel good about. What bothers me, is watching and feeling myself harden. It's one thing to be strong. It's another to be hard. My skepticism and general mistrust of others seems to be growing. More and more, I dread relying on anyone else for anything as I feel like I'm constantly being let down. As much as I sometimes want to fault the unreliable parties for this, I also fault myself for needing them in the first place. With each letdown, I harden a little more. Then I get angry with myself for not being able to do it on my own. I get angry with myself for being so incapable. Whether the people I surround myself with are unreliable or not, shouldn't even be an issue.

As much as it frightens me, sometimes I wonder if I should embrace this hardening, take comfort in its coldness. Maybe the “free spirit” I once was just doesn't have the survivability to be of any use. I miss her sometimes, that free-spirited me who soared on thoughts, music and whatever beauty captured my eye. There were so many sacred moments, so many things to write and dream about. That me was passionate, poetic and artistic. That me it seems, is either dying or falling into a deep sleep. That me just doesn't seem to fit here anymore and it aches to think about. More and more, my survivability seems to depend on practicality, skepticism and icy resolve.

Transformation is often painful and sometimes it should be so. When the pain gets to be overwhelming, I still have that temporary escape inside my head, but it is brief. Every time I emerge from that mental chrysalis, I see the changes and I wonder what I am to become. Whatever it is, I hope it has a purpose. I hope that I don't lose myself completely. I guess that's what insomnia and purring kittens are for. They soften the edges just enough to keep me in check.