Time In-Between
I feel a bit like I have stepped into an elevator that is taking me to another floor, but I don’t know which one.
I had a spooky dream last night: I dreamed that my stomach got so big and round that it actually split open. A small slit appeared under my navel, low down on the left side of my bulbous belly. The baby poked his little hand out the slit and when I reached down to touch it and assess the damage (for I certainly cannot SEE that part of me), he grasped my finger. Then the split in my skin widened, like a nylon-stocking run. It got wider and wider until he sort of tumbled out into my arms all slippery with goo: a do-it-yourself Cesarean section. So, I had my baby in hand, which seemed OK, but also a gaping hole in my body. I was all alone and didn’t know what to do to put myself back together again.
We have accomplished a lot in the last month. Baby preparations are going pretty well, I’d say. We’ve hauled a ton of stuff out of our home and a ton more stuff in. This process is good because it’s forcing us to look at all our belongings again and ask ourselves if we really need/want them. I’ve made several hefty trips to the Goodwill lately. I cleaned out my car this weekend and then took it to a carwash—something I do about once a year. Somehow, the thought of putting a freshly birthed human into a filthy dirty car seemed wrong: “Welcome to the family, son. For your first view of the world we have the accumulation of our daily filth: inches of sand, sticks, rocks, dirty socks, hats, papers, wrappers, apple cores, sandwich crusts, straws, Ziplock baggies, precious bottle caps, V8 cans, ballon strings, etc. Hope you like living with us.” Anyway, today Ian put together the cradle that my father made for me when I was a baby. I feel it’s good to have several safe places in the house where I can put baby down. As much as I adore Lucas, I trust him to be a four-year-old around his baby brother. (I myself pushed my infant brother in his baby seat off the kitchen table when I was four.)
I burned up another pot the other day. Fortunately, I think it’s savable, which is good ‘cuz it’s the 2-quart one I use all the time.
January 29, 2007 at 12:15 pm
Sometimes dreams that sound really scary aren’t really scary at the time. I hope that’s the case with the one you had, and that’s why you called it “spooky” and not “so terrifying I shat myself.” Jesus.
I’m very excited for you. I’m in awe of your strength and courage.
January 29, 2007 at 12:42 pm
‘…I was all alone and didn’t know what to do to put myself back together again. ‘
This to me sounds like you’re feeling a little trepidacious about giving birth. It this the last time you’ll be pregnant? I think if you meditate on that feeling, the fear of never feeling this again, that you will come to a sagely peace with it. As sick of the current situation as you are, you also see the bigger picture. You’re taking the hand of your new baby and changing (again) forever. What do you fill the hole with? That’s up to you. That’s a fascinating dream and one that asks you literally and metaphorically, what is your core identity without a baby inside?
Or that’s what I feel. I could be dead wrong. 😉
Hang in there, sister.
I promise that baby has to come out one of these days.
January 30, 2007 at 9:57 am
I meant to tell you sooner that your dream reminded me of the story I heard about the Gautama Buddha’s birth. I looked it up on Wikipedia this morning, and there’s even a picture — a relief depicting his birth. The legend goes that on the night he was conceived, his mother dreamt of a white elephant entering her right side, and when he was born, he was born from his mother’s right side. Right where the elephant went in. I don’t know how that works exactly, but… just reminded me. Here’s the link if you are curious: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siddhartha_Gautama
I remember how you felt so completely changed by Lucas’ birth and I am sure that is no small element in your mind now.
I don’t think I know how to be a very good friend when it comes to your children, but I do want you to know I love you and your family. I send prayers daily and have my candle right where I can see it.
January 30, 2007 at 11:36 am
In my waking life, the birth is the least of my worries. I did it before: I feel I can do it again. It’s the aftermath that I worry about. Spending 100% of my time and energy on a person who, at least at first, gives very little back in return can be discouraging. Sleep dep sucks ass and caring for an infant makes me feel alone and woozy. Even though I have the Best Husband in the World[tm], he cannot be at home all the time.
Putting myself back together after Lucas was born was a long, uphill journey. Integrating Sara with Mommy took time and patience and tears. I won’t say it is seemless even now. I hope that this identity shift will be a little easier. It’s not an entirely NEW role this time, it’s a revival of one I’ve played before.
January 30, 2007 at 11:40 am
Weird coincidence. I feel I’ve acheived some balance in my life over the last couple of years, and all that’s about to go out of whack again. I suppose the pendulum must swing periodically. Thanks for the loving support. It’s like a fuzzy warm blanket I’ve wrapped myself in.
January 30, 2007 at 11:41 am
Yeah. It was kinda freaky. Thanks for the encouragment and support. I love it, crave it, need it. 😉
January 30, 2007 at 12:48 pm
I can’t imagine what that must be like, not being a parent, though your words are similar to my other parent friends’ sentiments. I hope that knowing that people like me are out here sending you love and support helps.