Nightmares
I've spent the last few days debating about whether or not I should talk about the nightmares I've been having lately. Okay, more than lately; every night this week.
Happily, it's not the same nightmare over and over again, but different, more creative ways for my brain to fuck with me. Unless you're really in to dreams, the details aren't important, but the general motif is Nora's dead/taken/damaged/etc. in some way every night. I've lost her, buried her, rescued her and, in one fascinatingly bizarre instance, battled a Trickster God/Demon to get her back when Adam lost her in a rigged bet.
I'm figuring all of this is my brain gearing up to deal with the fact that we're in the Danger Zone. Nora's almost eight months old. She's in 9-12 month clothing. She's crawling, sitting up, clapping, laughing, exploring..... she's doing everything that Mazzy could do, now, and that knot in the pit of my stomach just won't go away.
It's not like I'm looking for trouble. I'm not. I'm a perfectly reasonable person and I'm fully aware that Nora turning 10 months will not be a death knell for us as parents. I can know that until the cows come home and still have Irrational Fears and Nightmares of the Horrible Future.
(Feel free to visualize me as a petulant toddler as you re-read that last sentence.)
Time has helped and I don't actively grieve Mazzy every day. Honestly, I don't think about her every day, either. I'm very involved in my current life and enjoying what I have, so I don't let myself get wrapped up in what I don't have. That means, sometimes, just letting Mazzy go in my day-to-day life. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. For people to heal and move on (and fuck, people, you have to move on) we have to accept that our dead become a smaller part of our lives. They don't vanish, they just move; instead of being my heart, Mazzy is my pinky toe. Maybe the pinky toe isn't the Rock Star of body parts, but would you be the magnificent upright person you are if you didn't have a pinky toe? As essential and wonderful and constant as your pinky toes is in your life, how often do you really think about that pinky toe?
I'm just saying.
The fear comes from knowing how open and vulnerable I'd be to losing Nora. I know that raw emptiness and, oh my, I don't want to feel that, again. I don't want to miss Nora the way I miss Mazzy. I don't want to go from these bright days full of laughter and sweetness to that dark nothing. The silence.
And so I have nightmares. Sort of like a person fearing the apocalypse, only it's Dead Baby-calypse.
Maybe admitting that these thoughts are there, that these dreams make sleeping awkward, will help ease the burden and I can find a little peace.
No worries, I'm happy and well-adjusted. Things are good and I love my life. It's a bit like living on both sides of a coin. I can be both things and function.
Huzzah
Happily, it's not the same nightmare over and over again, but different, more creative ways for my brain to fuck with me. Unless you're really in to dreams, the details aren't important, but the general motif is Nora's dead/taken/damaged/etc. in some way every night. I've lost her, buried her, rescued her and, in one fascinatingly bizarre instance, battled a Trickster God/Demon to get her back when Adam lost her in a rigged bet.
I'm figuring all of this is my brain gearing up to deal with the fact that we're in the Danger Zone. Nora's almost eight months old. She's in 9-12 month clothing. She's crawling, sitting up, clapping, laughing, exploring..... she's doing everything that Mazzy could do, now, and that knot in the pit of my stomach just won't go away.
It's not like I'm looking for trouble. I'm not. I'm a perfectly reasonable person and I'm fully aware that Nora turning 10 months will not be a death knell for us as parents. I can know that until the cows come home and still have Irrational Fears and Nightmares of the Horrible Future.
(Feel free to visualize me as a petulant toddler as you re-read that last sentence.)
Time has helped and I don't actively grieve Mazzy every day. Honestly, I don't think about her every day, either. I'm very involved in my current life and enjoying what I have, so I don't let myself get wrapped up in what I don't have. That means, sometimes, just letting Mazzy go in my day-to-day life. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. For people to heal and move on (and fuck, people, you have to move on) we have to accept that our dead become a smaller part of our lives. They don't vanish, they just move; instead of being my heart, Mazzy is my pinky toe. Maybe the pinky toe isn't the Rock Star of body parts, but would you be the magnificent upright person you are if you didn't have a pinky toe? As essential and wonderful and constant as your pinky toes is in your life, how often do you really think about that pinky toe?
I'm just saying.
The fear comes from knowing how open and vulnerable I'd be to losing Nora. I know that raw emptiness and, oh my, I don't want to feel that, again. I don't want to miss Nora the way I miss Mazzy. I don't want to go from these bright days full of laughter and sweetness to that dark nothing. The silence.
And so I have nightmares. Sort of like a person fearing the apocalypse, only it's Dead Baby-calypse.
Maybe admitting that these thoughts are there, that these dreams make sleeping awkward, will help ease the burden and I can find a little peace.
No worries, I'm happy and well-adjusted. Things are good and I love my life. It's a bit like living on both sides of a coin. I can be both things and function.
Huzzah
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