Tag: Spawn

A card arrived in my letterbox today, and since it says so much of what I lack the fortitude to express, I have asked (and been granted) permission to share the words here.

I did my first exam today, and expect that I will do OK – no HD, but ok considering the pathetic amount of work I did this semester. And frankly, this semester has coincided with me being a bit more functional – more socially functional, and more importantly, more capable as a mother. So I’ve been focussing my energies on being a great mama to the best kid in the world, and I have no regrets, no matter what results I get.

On Monday, on our way to swimming class, Inigo said, “Mama, if I get sad or scared in the pool today, I’ll wave at you, and you can make me feel better”. “OK Squish”, said I, not really paying attention (as I was driving).

“And if the other kids are sad, I’ll get you too”.

“Oh, baby, if the other kids are sad, they will want their own mamas”.

“No”, says he, “their mamas aren’t as nice as you”.

I think Credits will be fine this semester 🙂

———

6.11.11

Dear Lara,

heavy heart. Grief, shock, regret, memory. I think of you at the mercy of your body, the medical “help”. I think of you as Mama, the hours of Archie’s life going while you are unable to hold, touch, comfort him. I can’t help but think of Archie, and that is what kills me, because we could never explain, never reassure any cries with cuddles, soothing words.

What you experienced that day alone leaves me pathetically repeating myself: I cannot begin to imagine what you must feel – how a Mama can live through that.

And what Archie went through will always cause me so much pain, as everyone tried to help save him, the wee vulnerable mite. Not the gentle entrance to the world you first began to dream of during your pregnancy with Iggy.

And Iggy. If you had lost Archie and Aubrey and not had Iggy, how totally different your grief would have been. Never known the smiles from the booby boy, the relief of sleeping babies, the awesome pride in all the mountains of growth and understanding; and then the speech and personality that soon overtakes you and takes you constantly by surprise. Iggy ecstatic to share something, Iggy seeking comfort, Iggy testing your every ounce of personhood – beautiful Inigo, who has taught you motherhood. I grieve for you and also for your beloved boy as I hear my two in crazy giggles on the floor, as I cradle them both for a story, as I see M (little brother) so comforted by O’s (big brother) kisses, touch, songs, simple presence – and as I see O’s development in his role as big brother. Iggy would have been beautiful. I fantasise these relationships sometimes. I know his life is full of love, but no one else is his brother.

Last year, your life changed, and you changed. You will never be the pre A&A Lara again. Your boys you will take in your heart, in your body, to the grave.

Lara, my darling friend, I will always be here to stand by you and salute and support you, MOTHER OF THREE.

Tears,

Your friend Jx
Mo2
xxx

Today is my first full day of exam panic. It also coincides with being 364 days after Archie and Aubrey were born, and my ability to put one foot in front of the other (as a figure of speech) feels pretty damn compromised.

I’m still weeks and weeks behind in my exam preparation, which means that if I knuckle down and concentrate for the next 6 days, I might pass. But if I keep wanting to scream hysterically, weep hopelessly, and rage against the sick twist of fate that robbed me of my babies, then I don’t even think I’ll be able to complete the exam.

I can’t see what the rest of the world thinks of me, but I get the impression that I look ok. The kid gets fed, and cuddled, his clothes are mostly clean, the bills are paid, the house is as good as it gets. And I am torn between the feeling that it is enough, that the appearance of a functional life is about as good as I can expect of myself for now, and wondering if I am just so broken that I won’t ever really be normal again.

And that is just way too much head stuff going on when I should be thinking about school.

The real kicker? The topic i have been studying for the past few days is about psychological disorders. Triggers anyone?

66% for my research report. I’ll live through it, but it will make it very hard to get an HD for PSYC102. Do I need an HD? I rang Macquarie to talk about transferring (to avoid residential schools in Armidale next year), and I have to apply through UAC, which means a pile of paperwork, and a very impersonal and bureaucratic process. Which may get me absolutely nowhere.

Squish is going to preschool next year, and trying to work out which one has been difficult. Apparently all the good parents work this shit out years in advance, but I am a bit remedial in leaving it until October of the year before to start looking.

So if I switch to Macquarie, I’ll want him in a preschool that is closer to there, and if I stay at UNE it won’t matter. So I am tying myself in knots trying to make the best decision for my favourite kid, and 66% just makes me feel defeated.

Yes, yes, I know that 66% isn’t a great big stamp across my forehead that says “FAILURE”, but everything else is (relatively) easy for me, so this is forcing me to come to terms with the fact that I am going to have to really work hard to become competent at academic writing. It’s not something that comes easily to most people, so I shouldn’t feel like crap that my assignment came back covered in negative comments.

Ted and I took Squish to a new music class today. There were twin girls there. Thank FSM they weren’t boys. And that they were a little older than A&A should be now. Seeing twins is always a sharp pain, a glimpse is a shopping centre usually sends me in the opposite direction, but today I couldn’t run.

Sometimes, I can live through it. Just breathe, and pretend that I am coping, that life is ok. But there are other days, like today, when it’s just too hard.