Speechless

My last post shed some light on why I have some of the issues I do about childbearing. Watching myself type the word rejection was what Oprah would call a "light bulb moment." To me, there is almost nothing worse than feeling rejected. Especially by my own child for days/months/years at a time when all I ever wanted to do is love him and have a natural, loving relationship with him. This started in the days after he was born when he looked right through me and when my own milk seemed to be an acidic poison in his body. We didn't naturally mesh back then, either. It seems that my defense mechanisms have kicked in, as my heart would not survive this all over again. All I can do is the best I can and tell him I love him each and every day. I know the kid loves me back, and I cherish the moments he drags his blanket out after his nap to cuddle with me or rubs his nose against mine and giggles. We just really struggle some days to connect and communicate, and it hurts. The last couple of weeks have been really difficult this way. I get angry because I have to work so hard on the simple things that should just HAPPEN for both of us.

I guess this blog is good for something after all.

On that note, I ended up going to support group last night. We were going to meet in a local park, but it stormed off and on all day and was raining cats and dogs by the time our meeting was to take place, so eight of us sat around a large wooden table in a bustling corner store that has been converted into a trendy little store/deli/pizzeria in the neighborhood where I grew up. It was nice. Just being in the presence of these women was relaxing. However, times like these I realize how horrible I am at verbalizing anything at all. Being alone most of time probably doesn't help me any. I would have an easier time knitting a sweater while roller skating. Yes, it feels that awkward. I'm really much better writing things down. I have a lot to say but once it's my turn to speak, I can't seem to find the right words to do my thoughts justice. If they think I'm crackers, they sure don't let it show and are quite gracious.

Anyway, I would like to welcome the women I consider beautiful warriors. Thank you for visiting me here and being so incredibly kind to a freak show like me.