leftunspoken's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - It's been so long. Soooo long. And I've felt every moment of it. The change from who I was to who I am. It's been so many lifetimes. And how do I write of all that is beautiful and all that is tragic and stupid. There is my beutiful boy. Almost 8 months old now and my sunshine. His eyes have finally settled into a smoky grayish-blue with little brown circles around his pupils. His smile makes a dimple beneath his left eye and sends my heart into spasms of joy and pain combined. He is sturdy. Big. Almost 20lbs and all big bones and strength. All boy. Banging things loudly. Yelling just to hear his own voice. And sweet. Just as sweet and friendly and happy as any baby ever was. He is the very best thing I've ever done. (Though my heart is ever-filled with the fear that I could never live up to being the mother he deserves. I cannot imagine him deserving anything less than perfect; and I have no illusions about my mistakes and weaknesses, no matter how good a mother I strive to be.) Then there is his daddy. There is a shiny set of rings on my left hand that have been there since December 28th. And three days after the rings came a night I will never be able to forget. More drunk than I have ever seen him, my dear new husband left marks on my heart that will last the rest of my life. Apologies and forgiveness and AA came afterwards. But since then the bruises on my heart (and a few on my body) have continued. And there is counseling now, and hope, and sometimes there is giving up and horror and fear. And I sometimes wonder who he is, this new man that I met only after I married him, when are sweet baby boy was four-months-old. How does someone know? When you see two people every time you look at someone, how do you know which one is really them? And I'm tired. Deep down in my bones I'm tired. (Which is partly the all of it, and mostly the sweet baby who still wakes up to nurse every two or three hours.) And I love him. I still do. But sometimes I don't know if I should. And how do you ever know? And it's so standard. So everybody. My sisters and girlfriends nodding their heads in empathy, telling their own stories of husbands you would never expect. And don't pity me. Ever. I'm blessed. Still I am blessed. But I'm struggling, like everyone, through life. And I'm being a good mommy, a good wife, a good Christian, a good daughter, a good sister, a good employee, a rotten friend (haven't called anybody in months - because really what do you say?). Or at least...I'm trying. But I wanted to write. Because really it's been so long and so much and I wanted to put it down. P.S. I miss everybody. I work only part-time now, so I don't have as much time to goof-off, and I don't have an office anymore, so too many people over my shoulder means writing is a no-no. Be well. Bless everybody. 5:20 p.m. - April 17, 2006 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||