Pass the Blinders Please
I use to live life much like most people. I had my own special set of blinders on. I have always been empathetic. However it is easy not to notice things when they don’t directly effect you or people you love.
When I lost my only living daughter my blinders broke. I can’t ignore things the way I previously could. I see people’s pain every where. Even worse most of the time I feel their pain.
With the ability to see and feel the pain comes a horrible knowledge. The knowledge that not every one makes it. Some times the pain is too great to live through. Some times it breaks a person. At times they turn into a shell of their former self. Just barely existing and never truly living again. For others they die. Some just slowly fade away while others end it fast.
I have a small group of natural moms that I have grown close too. It is amazing in itself because I trust no one at this point but these ladies. They keep me going when I want to give up. We are 100% there for each other. Many nights we sit up all night just to be there for the one that isn’t doing so well. They are more of a family than I have ever had.
This is where the knowledge comes in. I know that we aren’t all going to make it through to the other side. I try to make myself believe we will. I lie to myself everyday. Yet my blinders are broken. I know its a lie. I can see it. I can hear it in their words. I know when they are telling me what I want to hear. I know the truth and I hate it.
This is true for one member of my group more than any other. She is trying so hard but everyday she slips a little farther from this world. I try to hang on to her as tight as I can but she slips between my fingers. I can’t let her go. I love her so much. I need her. SHe is so much a part of me. I can’t lose her too.
Yet nothing I do helps her. Nothing anyone says or does eases her pain. She has no escape. Her world is dark, ugly and painful. She can not find her way out. I can not help her. Professionals can not help her. Friends can not help her. Family can not help her.
I don’t want to know this anymore. I want to believe she is going to be happy again. I want to be able to picture her in a beautiful life. I want to truly believe we will grow old together. I want my blinders back!!!!
I struggled with all of the “what do I do” thoughts. I could call the police and have her put in a mental hospital. All that would do is push her farther along the road. They would surly tell her to get over it. (and have) I can continue on doing what I have been and pray thay it is enough. But I know its not.
The sad thing is that I know I will have to admit there is nothing I can do. I am powerless again. I can not make it better for her. I can not make her more capable of handling this. She is who she is. (I happen to think she is perfect.) Nothing I say or do will effect her ability to get through this. I can be her shoulder. I can be her ear. I can be the rock she holds onto. Yet I can’t make her lean on that shoulder. I can’t make her talk. I can’t make her grab ahold of the rock. No matter how much I want to I can’t make her survive.
I wonder how many times she has thought these same things about me. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe we will all live to be old and gray. Maybe I am reading to much into thoughts and actions I don’t understand. And maybe the sky will open up and the hand of the almighty will make our families and souls whole again. While we’re at it maybe there will be world peace and everyone will have a full plate tonight.
I wish I could just go back to being normal. I don’t want any of this anymore. Does it ever end?
So many times I have been asked to describe how it feels to lose a child to adoption. I have come to realize that it just can’t be done. The feelings are to intense and most people don’t have a point of reference so can’t really get it. This is as close as I can come and it is really a poor comparison.
Up until the adoption experience the ground I stood on was always solid. It was safe. While things happened to maske it feel unsafe at times it was still just one solid piece of ground.
When I woke up and realized my child was gone and I couldn’t do a thing about it that ground opened up. A great quake in my life split the ground beneathe my feet.
A huge chasm opened up in that ground. It was no longer solid and whole. There was a huge rift opening up to a hell most people can only imagine.
Now I am left straddleing that chasm. One foot precariously balanced on each side of the hole.
Everyday I try to steady my footing. The whole time the earth shakes and threatens to pull me down into the depths. It is a constant fight. I try to balance myself while it trys to pull me down.
Losing a child in this manner is a never ending sick dance. You try to balance your life and have something real and good to hold on to. Yet you can never forget that a part of your soul, your essence, your very being has been removed. It is gone and its not coming back. Nothing can fix that.
I’ve been staring at this for days now. Time to say screw it. Its being published even though it sucks.
Stinkin Dreams
“Fall Into Sleep”
Dreams of earthquakes
Dreams of hurricanes
Dreams of pouring rain
Dreams of tidal waves…to wash us all away
Dreams of guns blazed
Dreams of fire rage
Dreams of swollen graves
Dreams of hollow pain
All gone
No more fallen
No more enemy
No more casuality
No more dream
Fall into sleep
Fall into me
I have a dream
But nobody cares
Nobody wants to listen
Fall into sleep
Fall into me
Hang on to a dream that nobody wants
Nobody cares anymore
Dreams of mourning grief
Dreams of disbelief
Dreams of tragedy
Dreams of our disease…to take us all away
Dreams of fidelity
Dreams of inner peace
Dreams of loyalty
Dreams of unity
All gone
All gone
Fall into sleep
Fall into me
I have a dream
But nobody cares
Nobody wants to listen
Fall into sleep
Fall into me
Hang on to a dream that nobody wants
Nobody cares anymore
The angels are injured
Fall with broken burning wings
Are we dead inside
Are we blind
We can’t keep moving forward
Backwards with closed eyes
We’re losing sight
All lost inside
No more fallen
No more enemy
Fall into sleep
Fall into me
I have a dream
But nobody cares
Nobody wants to listen
Fall into sleep
Fall into me
Hang on to a dream that nobody wants
Nobody cares
Nobody wants
Nobody cares anymore
All gone
All gone
All gone
All gone
Mudvayne (again)
Apparently my memory dream was a sign of something just not something I wanted. It was a sign of the nightmares begining again. I thought I was past this part. Oh well. Back to 2 hours of sleep a night until it passes again.
One dream in particular messes my head up for days. Its not a scry dream. No mosters or chases. It probably wouldn’t seem like a huge deal to anyone else.
In the dream I am in a grocery store with amom. She is pushing a stroller and I am pushing the cart. Amom is putting various things in the cart I am pushing. I keep trying to look into the stroller but there is a big white blanket hanging over it.
It continues like this for sometime. Then we are walking down the road. Amom is still pushing a stroller covered in a white blanket. I am struggling to carry a bunch of shopping bags. Amom is talking my ear off while I am trying desperatly not to drop anything. The whole time I am trying to look into the stroller. Amom finally catches me trying to look and adjusts the blankets. She quickly says “You are not allowed to see her. Don’t drop my groceries”
Suddenly we are in a dark house. I am knelling down pulling food out of the bags. Amom is watching me but the stroller is gone. I put away all of the groceries and look up at her hopefully. She stares down at me for a minute and then tells me that I will not be seeing her today because I took too long with the groceries.
I start to cry and beg. Enter Adad… he pushes me out the door and I hear the lock click.
For some reason it is snowing outside. (it doesn’t snow where we live) I am running through the woods behind their house crying. For a reason I can’t figure out, I lay down in the snow and make a snow angel. I write her name in the middle with my finger.
Then boom I am awake. I shake and cry until I am scared of waking my boyfriend. I get up and write it in this silly blog. Ok so I only did the writing thing this time. Now it is time to finish crying and pretend to be asleep when the alarm goes off.
Firsts
My last post got me thinking of all the things I did when I was pregnant. Although my daughter was in my womb she was still there. She experienced things through me. Those things belong to just the two of us. Those were her true firsts. I guess I had more of her than I realized.
My heartbeat was the first thing she ever heard.
I was the first one to take her to the beach.
She felt the ocean for the first time through me.
I protected her from her first hurricane
She heard her dad play his gutair for the first time with me
She heard her brothers laugh
She went on her first road trip with me and her dad
We played with puppies
Her first shopping trip for clothes was with me. (yes I bought her clothes for when she came home with me)
Her first doctors appointment
Her first loss was even with me (something too personal to share)
and my heart was the very first one she ever heard break.
There are so many more things that we did together for the first time but I won’t ramble on and on.
These things belong to just us. No one can take them away unless we let them. I was there for all of the firsts. All the ones that matter.
I miss you baby girl
False Hope
Today is one of those bad days. One of the days when my anger fails me. My rage is extinguished by some unseen force and I am left with the agony and crushing depression.
In truth, it started at some point in the night. My subconcious mind betrayed me. It brought back the things my waking mind refuses to let me see.
Waking from these dreams always leaves me in a trance like state for hours. Caught some where between the dreams and reality. I know the memories are right below the surface but I can’t access them. I try so hard to remember. I want to remember. Please just let me remember.
I want to remember her smell. I want to remember the softness of her skin. I want to remember the weight of her in my arms. I want to remember the shrill sound of her first cry. I want to remember all the pain and exhaustion of her arrival in this world. I already lost her. Do I have to lose the memory of her too?
I thought I had retained one tiny memory this time. It wasn’t anything major but it was something. A tiny crumb I could hold on to. I grabbed my journal and wrote it down with such excitement. Now I can’t ever forget it again. Its in writing. Its permanent.
Normally I don’t read my past journal entries. I just write it down and leave it be. This morning was different for some reason. I read the entire thing from grisley begining to tragic end. It hurt a lot more than I expected.
Half way in my heart stopped. There it was staring me in the face. It was almost word for word what I had just written. I forced myself to keep reading. Five entries all the same. It wasn’t a new memory. Writing it down didn’t make it permanent. I forgot it five times before. It wasn’t some great all powerful sign of my memory returning.
Maybe I will end up like the man in the movie Memento. I can tattoo every memory on me. Would it even help? Most likely I would end up staring at the ink designs under my skin and wondering what the hell they meant.
Maybe the few that read here can remind me next time. So here goes…. this is my great gig ole memory …. Its huge I tell you ….
ROOM 311
Yep, that’s it. Seems like nothing at all. A simple room number causing all this joy and pain. Who’ da thunk.
I was in room 311. That means at some point, even if only for a few minutes, she was in room 311. I wasn’t in some utility closet or a secret underground facility. I didn’t give birth in a blackhole. I was on the third floor 3 in the eleventh room. 11
ROOM 311
There was a real room in a real hospital. I was there. I didn’t dream it all.
I’m sure some of you are wondering what the big deal is. Its only a room number. Its not like I suddenly remembered her little eyes staring up into mine. But it is something where I once had nothing. Its something that is just mine. No one else was on room 311 when she was born. Its mine and they can’t have it.
Got Bitter?
I figured I should go ahead and get this out of the way. It will save us all a lot of time and frustration.
I have read many blogs written by natural mothers for awhile now. In reading the comments they recieve I have noticed a few things over and over. The words angry and bitter seem to pop up more than anything.
To save me the annoyance of reading the same trite thing and save some of you the time of typing it in…… Damn right I am angry and bitter.I make no apologies for the fact nor will I ever.
I embrace my anger and accept it as part of me. I do not stuff it down or deny it in the guise of healing or acceptance of my fate. I do not stifle my anger to spare the delicate sensablities of others. I don’t care anymore who I offend and I don’t play well with others.
Does this make me a horrible person? Who knows. Do I care if people think so? Not really.
To be honest, I spent most of my life worrying what other people thought. Always doing what was expected of me. Sacraficing pieces of my soul so I wouldn’t be thought of as a disappointment. Terrified of any failure. I had to be a good little girl at all times.
When I lost the fight for my daughter I quit. Not once did anyone care about my feelings or needs. Not once did anyone listen. They still don’t listen today so I am done with that nice little girl crap.
We all survive in different ways. My anger is my tool. It keeps me going. On dark nights when I just can’t take it anymore anger keeps me alive.
So please don’t comment on how angry and bitter I am. I am well aware of it. Don’t wish me peace and healing. I am really not interested.
I am angry. I am bitter. I am outraged and the only b word I respond to rhymes with witch.
Music of Exile
There was a time when I listened to just about every kind of music. Those days are long gone. No more sappy love songs or cheerful beats for me. Now I turn on a cd an hear power cords and angry screaming voices. Lyrics about torment and pain. I hear me in these songs. The rage that is just beneath the surface. The pain and agony of my soul.
I wanted to share a song that really gets me in a place most don’t. On bad days I just hit repeat and cry it out.
Pendulum stops and falls away
Life sifted through like sand
Storms of summer rain
Flooding lifelines in our hands
Our skin of blood and bone
Gently close to dust and blows
Our home of blood and bone
Pulls through the ground and so….
Unstoppable
These feelings of loss
So unstoppable
Egging through to the marrow of bones
Just let it go
Pain willing in your eyes
Just let me go
Dry the tears that fall
And remember
When everything is typical
I’ll be the wish upon a star
I’ve found a place so magical
Goodbye….
See you another goodbye
I… See you another goodbye
See you another goodbye
See you another…
Peeling killers rise
Precious circle is mended
Sense vertigo in you
So I’ll be your halo
So unstoppable
My love for you
So unstoppable
Memories of you
Just remember
When everything is typical
I’ll be the wish upon a star
I’ve found a place so magical
But still please…
Someone, Help Me, Grab Me, Save Me Now,
Distrust, Darkened, Daylight, I’ve lost sight
Someone, Help Me, Grab Me, Save Me Now,
Distrust, Darkened, Daylight, I’ve lost sight
Remember
That nothing here is typical
I’ll be the wish upon a star
I’ve lost something so magical
And gone so far
Just remember
When everything seems difficult
I’ll be shining from a far
When it feels like things have gone away
I’ll see you again
I’ll see you again, Goodbye
I’ll see you again, Goodbye
I’ll see you again, Goodbye
I’ll see you again, Goodbye
I’ll see you again, Goodbye….
Mudvayne
Just looking at the lyrics I wonder “what have I become?” Am I really this person now? Sadly I have to admit that I am.
Gone is the girl that wished on the first star every night. No more splashing in puddles. No hope of a bright future. No singing to myself during long walks on the beach. No care free days and lazy thoughts
It has all been replaced. Now I have deep thoughts of “what if” and “if I had only”. I only go to the beach at night to scream where no one can hear me. Instead of wishing on stars I cry in my pillow every night. Silently so no one will notice I am not as okay as I pretend to be. And always there is the dark empty place that can not be filled. It is all around me. Beside me and with in me. The empty place my child should be.
I am so sick of hearing how grateful I should be. I have contacted numerous lawyers who all have the same party line. “Yes it was illegal how they got
your daughter but in our opinion you should just go home and be grateful you have visitation and get pictures”
Grateful for what? For having my daughter
stolen? Maybe for the three hour long visits I get a year. I love the pictures but they should have been taken on my camera. How can I be grateful for
anything after they ripped my daughter away from me illegally.
Maybe it makes me a bad person but I’m not grateful. I hate every last one of them. They are evil, selfish, greedy people who care nothing for me or my daughter.
She is a possession to them. A status symbol. Something they bought and sold. And I am an
annoyance. If I don’t shut up and be a good little girl they won’t let me see her again. Well I refuse to lay down like a beaten dog. What they did was wrong! I will scream it from the rooftops for anyone who will listen to hear. I will scream about it, write about it, paint about it and anything else I can think of.
They might take away my visits but I will give my daughter something far more important. When she grows up she will know that I raged and fought for her. I will give her a mother that didn’t just take it. I will give her a mother that kicked and screamed until someone noticed. And maybe I can save someone else from the pain I have to endure in the process.
I Lost My Freind Today
I lost my friend today. She didn’t move away or die. We didn’t have a fight or just grow apart. She gave up. Life finally became too much for her. She lost her will to fight. She was swallowed by a pain so great she couldn’t fight it any longer. She was taken away by adoption.My friend was beautiful. She was brave and strong. She never had an easy life but she always kept her chin up. She had 2 beautiful children that were the light of her eye. She was a good mom and loved being with them. It wasn’t until she became pregnant again that the problem arose.She was scared. How could she have another child at her age. The father was abusive. How could she protect her precious baby? The father insists she get an abortion. She knows in her heart she can not but seeks the information anyway. There she meets people who tell her she is doing the wrong thing. How can she kill this baby? Doesn’t she love it? Why not choose adoption? Its the loving option. She can help some poor infertile couple. If she truly loves her child she will do this. They made sense. She could save her baby and help someone else. She will be brave and do what they say is right. Months go by so fast. She falls in love with the life inside of her. She rejoices at its every movement. She loved her baby more than life itself. She begins to doubt her desicion. She calls the agency to tell them how she feels. But think of how you will hurt that poor couple they say. And what about the dad. He will surely abuse the baby. You can never keep her safe. You have 2 children already. They can give your baby so much more than you. Don’t be selfish. Think of the baby first. If you truly love your child you will do this. She hangs up and cries herself to sleep.Then the fateful day arrives. She feels the first pains of labor with dread. She screams no in her mind. It is too soon. I want more time with her. Please God don’t take her from me yet!. But her water broke and she knew she had to go to the hospital. She gave birth to a beautiful little girl. She heard her first cries with both joy and fear. She knew she couldn’t do this. She begged them to bring her the baby. Finally she held her child. She stared into the babies eyes. Eyes that were so like her own. She counted every finger and every toe. She memorized every feature of her daughters face. She fell in love with that child of her flesh.
She left the hospital with her child. She checked into a hotel. Just her and the baby, together, a family alone. She heard a knock on the door that mad her stomach drop. They had come for her. She sobbed as they told her she had to do the right thing. They poured her a glass of wine for her nerves. They told her how she wa hurting her little girl. How selfish she was being. How she was breaking the hearts of the poor couple who had been waiting to adopt. If she truly loved her baby she would do this. The wine kept coming as they talked. They pulled out papers and she pushed them away. The wine kept coming. Still she pushed the papers away. They grew angry. How could she pay for college. She was hurting her other children with this. She was just being selfish. She had to do the right thing. They held her hand steady as she signed the papers. Then with a smile they took the baby and were gone.
She was alone.
No baby to take care of and love. Her body hurt from birth but there was no proof it ever happened. Her breasts leaked milk for a baby that was gone. She cried herself to sleep again
She called the agency. She begged them to bring her daughter back. They said its too late. You signed the papers. You gave her away. You should be happy. You need to get over it. You will forget and move on. Your baby has a new mommy now. She doesn’t even know who you are.
She never moved on. She never got over it. She is not happy. Her soul screams in anguish every second of every day. She cries herself to sleep every night now. She has no joy in life. She is no longer brave. She no longer smiles. She stares at the world through haunted eyes. She is no longer here.
Tonight she gave up. My friend checked herself into a hospital that I don’t know she will ever be out of. She is gone.
She was the only one who understood me. She was the only one who understood my pain. She was the only one who knew the hell I lived in. She was the only one and now she is gone. I lost my friend today and I think I lost me.
Aborted Mother 