Thursday, April 11, 2013

This says day 37 but really its like 42... who's counting? Blog police?

Honest to God, I just don't know how to top the drama of last week...I think that's why I have been experiencing a bit of writers block... I mean B & E's and POF dating at 7 months pregnant? You can't fake that shit people. Truth is crazier, and way more entertaining than fiction. The good news is, my BF Jane bought me The Bloggess Jenny Lawson's first book and memoir, "Let's pretend this never happened" to cheer me up and in it she clearly states that most bloggers are either emotionally unstable or social misfits... and that's why they turn to blogging. She is both, and it makes her writing both hysterically funny and deeply disturbing, I love her. I feel better about myself now... and it answers some questions...

I seemed to have meandered away from my "Law of attraction" theme as of late, and I realize that maybe if I actually start living my teachings again and setting a better example for y'all I  might  a) not be experiencing so much high seas drama and b) not be receiving viral like views to my blog and c) might be having a little more happiness and a little less heartache. (but who can really say on that last one, because when you fall in love with a douche bag you are pretty much destined for heartache)
So let it be a lesson in owning your "now moment" real time power... the "douche bag" is a result of old patterns and thoughts and I can only create a better outcome from my now moment. Right? Shit.

Whats funny, is I actually think I was kind of waiting to see how things shook out over the weekend. I feel like so many of my readers are emotionally invested now. I didn't want your hopes dashed.. my dashed hopes are about all I can take, I don't want to be responsible for yours too...

I have to say that after our big blow out and subsequent date the other night, I thought things were going really well. We spent some time together on Saturday night, and talked about everything... and nothing...we were back to being in love again. Then Sunday morning he came over with a latte and we spend another 4 hours talking about how we could get back on track and what that would look like and what went wrong and he was really emotional and that was awesome to see... I was happy and hopeful.

I guess something in me was cautious and didn't want to actually declare anything to you guys, or on the Internet that can't be erased in the event that I would be duped again, and look stupid for being a hopeless pathetic romantic. Which was in fact what happened. The fact is, I give up too much, and he happily takes what he needs and doesn't offer anything in return. The Florence and the machine song "sweet sweet nothing" really sums up my week, and its time for me to love myself enough to say no more. "It's not enought to say you care, you give me nothing sweet, sweet nothing... "

It took several nights of frustration and grieving of all my new found hopes once again to come to the conclusion that I wasn't getting what I needed, nothing was going to change and it was time to close the door. I knew that in order for me to stick to my guns and digest saying goodbye, I would have to find a new way to look at each piece of my attachment; take it in chunks, and re-frame them one by one; until I wasn't focused on what I was losing, but what I would experience instead. I figure this would at least give me relief from my sadness and increase the odds of me sticking to my guns and walking away.

Right now, the biggest source of my urgency, attachment and disappointment was the dream of a peaceful and intimate home birth with Darren. I was so focused on fixing us so that we could enjoy the last few weeks of this pregnancy together and plan our birth. I had to find a way to re-frame the scenario with out him, into something that I could at least swallow.

It was Jane and her sister Annie who gave me the inspiration for my new vision. Jane told me the story of how when she was in labor with her last, even though her husband was standing right beside her holding her hand, it was Annie's voice in the hallway saying "you can do it Jane!" as she reached the home stretch, that gave her the strength to push that babe out. And from there, we decided that men are just simply useless during child birth. In fact they are typically the ones whining the loudest. I know this was the case during the birth of my first son. I remember thinking to myself as Shawn's father whined his feet were getting wet by the side of the bath, as I endured yet another horrific contraction...are you fucking kidding me??? holy crap, I am married to you?? What the hell kind of wussy are you?? This is never going to last... damn it!

We decided that childbirth was a job for the women, and men had no real business interfering... and all of the sudden I didn't feel so alone. I made a choice, to re-frame my vision of the birth I wanted into the birth I needed. And that, is to be surrounded by love and strong women who would know what I needed in the deep stages of labor. I make a mental picture in my mind of how awesome it will be,  just me and the girls...fussing, bonding, laughing, crying and maybe some gutteral screaming on my end... and then oooing and awwwwing over baby Pax as he makes his debut on planet earth.

The other piece of re-framing was to remove myself from the loss of my partner, and realize that Pax and I were his to lose. I was going to be there, and I was going to have my baby and he was going to miss it. Not me. Beyond the birth of this baby was the realization that I was still beautiful and I would have a sweet little man, and some big man would be happy to love us, and take care of us when the time was right. This was not my loss... it was his.

1 comment:

  1. That's right sister. You are bright and shining. So much love <3