tear apart

leanne just hid her email from me when i accidentally came up behind her. i feel like i am completely interdependent upon her and yet she was obviously violated by my presence. i was tired and hungry all day running around – when i am actually quite exhausted and feel like i should be lying down when not feeding lucy.

lucy – you cried like you were going to tear apart from the inside today. your hands were up on either side of your face, clenched into fists and scratching your delicate cheeks. when evanescence came on to sing ‘my immortal’ amy’s soaring voice calmed you down; i thought – if i had a voice like an angel, would you forgive me? i can’t sing to you to make it stop; i can’t rock you in the right way or make the right cooing sounds to help you stop crying; i can’t interpret you to know why you are hurting; i can’t seem to make it better.

glimpsing

leanne said the other day that having a baby gives her something to move forward towards. that was really neat…

we breastfed in public – on a bench on the sidewalk in front of starbucks after seeing dr kahn – then changed her diaper. then went to the ocean, which immediately calmed her down.

and just now leanne said: ‘now that she’s been with us for ten days i can’t imagine not having her’

leslie wrote: You are an amazing woman and an amazing family with many resources.

glimpses only, of the brightness through the dark.

 

tuesday is a hard day

i look at her and when i careen into despair and tears i feel she looks at me confused and protecting already.
i think of her in the mornings when i’ve had too little sleep and start to panic – about her hopes fears and dreams and how will we sustain them? i worry in advance for the heartache and injuries she will suffer in life; i worry that i will be and am old and may not be there for her.

her fussiness worries me; is it all the time? am i required to feed all the time? every hour, every two hours? can i keep up? can we have time for ourselves – leanne mentioned she is sore because she can’t do the morning stretches in bed she usually does.

i worry that this is the kind of thing women turn bipolar about and get locked up in insane asylums! i think or thought i was a strong woman – so many women give birth – surely i can survive this and bear this lovely child upwards in the world, can’t i?

she is nine days old and she is snoring in the bassinet – it’s 9:30a and it’s dark in the room while leanne and wanda slumber. she is crying in her sleep; i feel desperate at times. dark, demanded, i will not be able to fulfill, another morning.