Post Pardum Reflections

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I'm brooding tonight. Fair warning, this is not an upbeat post. Hubby is running high tonight, we had our baptism service, this is his first ever and it went well. I'm happy for that. I hate to bring him down, this was such a good day and I enjoyed it. I don't know why I've got such a moody heart tonight. I guess there is just some things that bang around in my mind and sometimes they bang too hard. And it hurts. I need a break. I need to hear the answer to my questions. Andrew and I have been batting an idea back and forth, I know the answer I want, but he is still thinking it out. I need this closed. I need to close this chapter. I need to know I can be done with this.

I've been revisiting some old memories. Trying to let them go. It's brought me down. The whole time after Nadia was born is just a dark and hurtful place. I just pain over this. It's such a surreal time for me. And it seems that things are just popping up all over again. I have a friend who's going through the same thing. Her thoughts, feelings and things she's saying just bring me back. Oh my goodness, I hurt so much over this. I hurt over the loss. I hurt over what wasn't. I hurt over that year. It's gone. Just gone. Most mothers just go back to being themselves after a month or so, they don't live in crippling fear. I would literally be in a panic when she cried. My heart would race when I heard her, it was so hard to even think when I went to her door. I had no idea what to do because of the fear. I lived like that for a year after she was born. I was afraid to be alone. And I was alone, everyday. I was not myself. I was someone else. It seems so stupid to be hurt about fear. It seems so ridiculous to be hurt over this. But I am, that's the truth. I hurt because I was not normal, I was not right. I hurt because I had no joy, no happiness, no love. It pains me to read about women who LOVE their babies. Not because they love their babies, but their love for their babies reminds me I had none for mine. It was not given. I feel cheated. Either myself or God did not give it to me, did not give me that feeling. I'm not blaming God, I'm just saying that whatever gives that love to a mother for her child did not give it to me. I was cheated. That's why I hurt. Why me? Why this sweet little baby girl? What did she do to deserve a mother who didn't love her? Why did I have to suffer through that time, no money to go to a dr, away from family, a church who didn't know, didn't have the capacity to care? Why then, why that way? I feel like I had no way out! Destined to suffer through it.

I read a scripture today in Sunday School, this is all a part of the curse for women. Genesis 3:16 says "To the woman He said: I will greatly multiply your sorrow and your conception;" WOW! It's like we women are destined for sorrow. A part of the curse. I know there is redemption and hope, but there is still the struggle with it.

You gotta know I am working through this stuff, it's gonna be on here. It's not pretty. But I'm not apologizing for it. This is real and stinky. Just so you know. This is how I heal. I write about it.