It's the stupidest directive, we've all heard it, at least if we've ever been on a plane. Yet it's probably the most basic form of good parenting there is. You are absolutely no good to your child if you're dead. No one else will take care of them like you will. No one could ever love them and all of their "unique" character traits like you do, no one will ever appreciate the sheer genius in an elaborately planned, folded and executed paper airplane the way you will, nor will anyone ever truly see the most amazing use of dimension in a drawing that contains macaroni, glitter, yarn, oatmeal, sand, very tiny rocks and something I hope is not cat crap.
I got slapped in the face today with the realization that I am not doing anyone, least of all my kids, any good right now. My previous "supposed to" post pretty much says it all. I am doing everything on the surface with great success but I am not in any way there, for anyone.
My last "previously scheduled programming" (something I volunteered for when I was happy and pregnant) ended today. I have had my nose, head, body and mental sanity completely buried in heading up huge events at my kids school. So much so that I have physically and emotionally blown off, pretty much everything else I used to do. So when my mom dropped off my daughter from ballet class, (I couldn't take her b/c of the "event" and also I have been avoiding going because one of the other mom's there is pregnant and due 3 weeks after I was due with Caleb. How's that for handling things???) Anyway, my mom asked me how I was doing and I just lost it. I thought I was only going to say how tired I was and then all this other emotion came up and I started sobbing. She was hugging me saying let it out, let it go and I thought to myself, if I start, I won't be able to stop. Ever.
So now I am left with this feeling that for the rest of my life I will always feel this horrible, oppressive emptiness. And no matter how hard I run through my life I will never get away from it. I wonder if I will ever truly enjoy something again. I wonder if I will ever not think about my dead baby when I am having what appears to be, to everyone else and maybe even me, a good day.
I am still breathing but I feel like I am running out of air and I have no idea where my oxygen mask is.