There's a lot to be said for just feeling comfortable with somebody. We saw a movie this weekend about a frenetic new love and I had a moment of longing for that feeling I remember when everything was new and exciting and thrilling. But then you feel that comfort of knowing the person next to you is your forever. I don't think there's anything more soothing to a heart.

I am a lucky lady.


Driving at night looking at the lights with her trying to sing along to the radio. I look at them and feel so complete.


Some days you just can't escape the loneliness.


It is very nice to sleep with your soul mate every night.


"In that recent picture you sent, you looked so young, beautiful, and full of life. I'm stunned."


"This much I'll put in writing: Next time I see you, I'm going to give you a wink."


Careful, there.


I wonder, sometimes, if these thoughts will always plague me. If it's just the way it's going to be forever.

Married, in love, and I still ask him if he really actually thinks I'm pretty. Does he really find me attractive though, for real? Does he like looking at me? Is he serious? He doesn't actually want to puke when he sees me naked, does he?

I wonder how much of it is an innate female thing and how much is about me being broken. I don't know; mostly I feel broken.

Even when I realize I'm probably just broken, it doesn't make me stop wanting that reassurance, doesn't make me stop needing it. And short of pestering my husband every three seconds, I don't know where or how to get it. Its a sexual thing, so friends can't help. It's about attraction in a primitive sense, not about personality or soul mates. I want to feel like a piece of meat: a tasty one.

There's all this guilt about my feelings, which I'm sure is not healthy, but then I am also sure my needs are not healthy, and that's all fine and good, to recognize, I mean, but it doesn't change a thing. Doesn't change the want or the urgency even a bit.

I don't want to turn into one of those desperate women who seek attention at all costs: partly because that just isn't me but also because that is frightening, almost. When you get to an animalistic place you also realize exactly your physical limitations and I realize, particularly, that physically I can be overpowered by almost anybody. It's terrible that I even have to think about these things when considering what to wear, but that's the world we live in and it would be naive to deny the reality.

Maybe just writing will help.

Fuckin' communication.


Really ridiculously happy.


"I have crazy hair today. Do I still look pretty with crazy hair?"

"Yes. Maybe prettier."


Feverish baby and puking husband. He asked me if this was my worst birthday ever and I said, "No, because I got to spend it with my two favorite people."

I cuddled up next to him, fell asleep and was woken up a few minutes later when he squeezed me and said, "You're my favorite person!"

Sometimes things don't go exactly as planned--well, they hardly ever do anymore--but just being with them is enough for me.


We've had to adjust to some things, and it's been hard sometimes. Having a baby changes a lot. It changes your priorities and how much free time you have. It's not just another person entering your lives, it's another person who needs help with everything, even things as simple as falling asleep.

So instead of dinner and an evening of cuddles together as a couple, you have: Dinner and then divide and conquer the bedtime to-do list. Most of our together time is now taken up playing with her, feeding her, making sure she doesn't lunge off the bed.

I went through a period of mourning for our lost intimacy time. I missed him. I still do sometimes. But when you finally accept that things change and trying to squeeze in 2 hours of time for each other after she's gone to bed isn't really possible since you need more than 5 hours of sleep every night, you can appreciate what you do get.

Even if it's only 20 minutes of hugging and talking before we drift off at almost the same time, it's lovely. And not despite what it means about our new responsibilities, but because of it. We both do a lot, we're both tired, and we can relax in each others arms at the day's end.

I'm not sure I've ever been so comfortable.


Sometimes the weekend gets crazy and he has to work some more and you have to go visit family and then you fight and you end up not having any time together and you wish you could just undo it all so you can lay in bed and touch.


Jumbled.


I'm still not fully settled in this body, you know. Most of the time I think it's okay and no there isn't really anything wrong with it and just give it a break for crying out loud but sometimes I wake up and two pounds up on the scale scares me and I start feeling terrible about my bulges and scars and rolls and I kind of hold my breath hoping he'll say something, unprovoked, about how attractive I am so all the bad thoughts will get pushed down but he doesn't and then I just have to go to bed feeling blue and sour and hope tomorrow is better.

It's nobody's fault. Not even my own. It just is.

I'm trying to get better, you know.


I don't trust my brain much. I fear losing my mind, my memories. I take pictures and write things to be prepared in case this happens. So that maybe I will have captured enough moments and emotions to still be me? Perhaps it's an irrational fear, but it is ever present. So is the mistrust.

Sometimes I really don't know if it's him or it's me. Do I have a legitimate point, or is it just my brain acting up again? I don't know. It's exhausting. And I don't know how to take a break from my brain.


So there still is hope
Yes, I can be healed
There is someone looking for what I concealed
In my secret drawer, in my pockets deep
You will find the reasons that I can't sleep
And you will still want me
But will you still want me?

We were in the dark on picnic benches at a state park, the nights had just started getting crisp. We were holding hands and looking at each other in the moonlight. I blurted it out, no prompting, no build up, and I'm still not sure why. And I was completely calm and so was he. Everything was still perfect. And he still wanted me.

***

Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning
When you start to raise your head?
And does he sing to you incessantly
From the space between your bed and wall?
Does he walk around all day at school
With his feet inside your shoes
Looking down every few steps
To pretend he walks with you?

Oh, does he know that place below your neck
That's your favorite to be touched?
And does he cry through broken sentences
Like, "I love you far too much"?

Does he lay awake listening to your breath
Worried you smoke too many cigarettes?

I was having a really hard time. Felt like I was crumbling and it was showing. The doctor gave me a new medication to help me sleep and it felt like maybe that could hold me together. That first night he listened to me breathe, waking me up once when it wasn't regular enough.

It's a different love, the love for your child, but the intensities are the same. Our baby gets our love automatically, just from having been made. You don't have a choice in it, you think they're perfect.

My love for him was chosen, and it is mutual. My love for her is automatic and unconditional. And these two loves are enough to last me a lifetime.


It's like there's an elephant in the room, and you really want to talk about the elephant, but you can't bring it up because 1) the elephant has been here for so long that to bring it up now would just make you look silly, really really silly and maybe a little slow because DUH of course they have seen it WHAT ARE YOU DUMB or 2) the other person hasn't noticed the elephant and it's been here for such a long time that they actually haven't seen it and when you do bring it up it's going to freak them the fuck out because WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON THERE'S AN ELEPHANT IN HERE.

So that's where I am. Just waiting to be ready for either reaction.


When I was 14 and I told anybody who asked that I was never going to get married and have kids, what I actually meant was, "I don't think anybody will ever want to marry me. I don't think I'm good enough for anybody to want me. So instead of pining for it, I'm trying to convince myself now that it's not something I ever want."

So I am genuinely surprised that it happened.

I've only ever wanted to be happy. When I thought love & family were out of the question, I assumed career & ambition would make me happy, so that's what I worked toward. But they seem unnecessary now. And it's not as if I have anybody demanding my skills right now, but honestly, sometimes as I'm cleaning poop from an especially cute baby bottom, I realize that if somebody offered me my dream job right this second, I would hesitate and not know what to do, because being in this house with this girl and this man I love more than anything makes me really really happy.

It's a little awkward for me, to identify as a feminist and have to admit that this wife & mom role fulfills me and makes me very happy. But that's what we're fighting for, right? The right to make our choices, regardless of what others think we should be doing.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say, exactly, but I need to get it all out.

I still worry what people think of the path I've taken. That I wasted my promise or my education or my talent. And I feel that some people think ending up a homemaker is the saddest fate that can befall a woman, but: when you choose it, it can be the most fulfilling thing you've ever done.

My therapist asked me repeatedly whether I was considering an abortion. I did consider it, thinking I was too sad, too fucked up to ever be somebody's mom. My ultimate reason for not choosing to abort was extremely selfish: I knew I would never forgive myself for it.

But as soon as I made that choice, I made another: I was going to be the best mother I could possibly be to this kid. She would feel loved every day of her life.

That's where my ambition and dedication went. I couldn't love these two more. I work to keep them happy and fed. I work to make them treats and make them comfortable and make them laugh.

And right now this is more than enough for me.

I love my job.


One interview, one phone call, one job offer.

And just like that, the future is bright again. I don't think about where we will go when our house is taken away. I don't wonder if I'll be able to afford a nice birthday gift for my baby.

I can think about what new recipes I'll try this week. I can think about what it'll be like when he gets a promotion and how we can transfer someplace else with a better school district for her when the time comes. I can make a real budget that's not in the red by hundreds of dollars and we can save up for things like home improvements and a little family vacation.

I guess sometimes you do have to hit rock bottom to come back up again.

I can't imagine loving him more.


i found a reason to keep living
oh, and the reason, dear, is you

My favorite thing is watching them play together. Her little baby giggle and his silly voices. When they dance.

They are all I need. And things are getting better, slowly. So she'll have her craft room someday and a really good gift at Christmas and parents who aren't sick with worry over the mortgage.

It's going to be okay.


I'm exhausted. For months, everything has been an uphill battle. Every day is some kind of fight with somebody about something. Nothing goes smoothly or as planned.

I've gotten to a point now where even if something goes right, I am afraid of being happy, because I feel I should instead brace myself for the disaster that is inevitably to follow. There is always a disaster to deal with.

So, Universe, I'll take my break now. Any small token of goodwill is appreciated. Food money, a shirt that fits, car registration.


Maybe it was because I was in somebody else's house, in somebody else's bathroom, looking through somebody else's mirror at 3 in the morning, but I didn't recognize myself.

That nose couldn't be mine. It was too long and the little crook too noticeable. The wrists and forearms were too small and delicate to belong to me. The neck was too long and the shoulders too defined.

I stood and stared and prodded and turned and moved.

It took some time to convince myself that I was looking at me.


Fell asleep snuggled next to him last night while we watched tv. I couldn't keep my eyes open. Woke up to him squeezing me and saying, "I love you so much!"


The way you feel about the way you look is hardly ever based on the reality of how you look.


Who knew babies are so incredibly good at cheering you up.


Highs and lows highs and lows mostly again and again each time getting just a little bit lower not your lowest like before never like that again but low enough that good things happening starts to seem like a distant memory this place that you're probably never going to get back to again because good things don't happen to you anymore and somehow over the course of the years ambition has gone from being perfectly reasonable to downright delusional.



You're a worthless piece of shit; you need to disappear; you can get better; it's going to be okay someday; you are loved; you can do things right; you can take care of people you love; why is surviving so hard; why can't you take care of them; they need your help; you have to help; you're trying to help; nothing turns out right; there are only dead ends; having hope is too hard because the inevitable crash makes you want to claw at your skin forever or disappear.


Sometimes when she's not quite asleep but she's getting there, eyes fluttering, we make eye contact and she smiles like she's been comforted completely just by looking into my eyes. It makes me feel so incredibly special.

Yesterday the three of us laughed and laughed together at nothing. He laughed and then she laughed and then I laughed and the three of us were laughing and so happy and that is all I ever need.


I just want to keep what we have. I don't want much more. I can live without asking for anything more. I just want to stay in this house and pay our bills and have money for food. I want her to have a couple of presents for Christmas and a stocking. I want to be able to buy him a good pair of shoes so his feet won't hurt anymore. That would be nice. That doesn't seem like too much to ask for.




Her pinky fingernail makes me cry.

That day, after all that pain and pushing and hurting and doubting and exhaustion: having her in my arms, finally after all that I was astounded by her pinky nail. I noticed that it was the size of a sesame seed. She was so so small and helpless and she came out of me. Less than six pounds. 19 inches.

Today while I was feeding her and holding her little hand, I looked at her pinky nail. It's not the size of a sesame seed anymore. It's probably twice as big. Maybe tree times.

I cried and I can't really explain why.


I'm not sure the good dreams make up for the bad dreams that make me feel like a terrible person.


Three years. We have each other and our baby and nothing else seems to matter.


You swear it won't change you and you won't turn into one of "those" people who have kids and then that's all they can talk about.

But it does change you. And you can't help it. And you don't even have time to think about anything else.

***

"I miss cuddling and touching you."
"I know...but there's usually a baby between us...it's not our fault."

Taking care of her and him and me is all I have time for. I cook and try to clean and do the dishes just enough so that I can cook again.

I'm not complaining. I'm just saying. Having a child is fundamentally transformative. Priorities change and your time isn't really yours anymore.

But that smile.

That smile.


I miss him.

I shouldn't, but I do.

He hasn't talked to me in two months but I miss him.

I don't know how to mourn a friendship.


Yeah sometimes she's screaming at midnight with no hopes of sleep for anybody anytime soon but then there's that magical moment when she's grinning and cooing and you just think, "How did we make the cutest baby on Earth?"

When she sleeps longer than 2 hours during the day, I miss her. Even as I watch her sleep I sometimes just kind of want her to wake up so I can kiss her and talk to her and play with her.


When your husband is older and hasn't seen in a doctor in years, you start thinking about mortality. When you have a baby, you think about it more.

You look into her little eyes and see her little nose and little hands and feet that are exactly like her father's and you know: If he dies before the two of you, you'll always see him in her.

It's a terrifying & comforting thought. You won't know which for sure until it happens.


You can be happy with most things and still get sad.

I cry when I feel ugly and he doesn't understand. I'm not unhappy. I just feel ugly. I know what depression is and that's not where I am.

When he's holding her and playing with her my heart swells up so much I feel it might burst. I love them more than I thought was possible. I am happy about how things have turned out.

But I reserve the right to remember our early courtship with misty eyes. I can miss those days and it's okay. I can miss staying in bed with him all day and going for drives on weekdays to state parks.

You can miss something and still be happy where you are.