Thursday, February 23, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
Monday, May 9, 2011
The words came so easily – not because they were fake, lies, or cliché. I mean each and every word of them. Its just…it never quite feels like enough.
Thank you for your continued love and support. You are an inspiration. I can only hope to be half the mother you have been to me.
Lots of love, Paula
I think I say the same, or words to that every effect every single year. Again…meaning every word. The whole point of this blog was that if I were to drop dead tomorrow, my daughter could know me, read stories of herself and have a truth of motherhood that only a mother can share. In the midst of my post partum depression, I became panicked that I was going to lose myself and leave her motherless…and so the true confessions began. No baby book, I’m afraid. Already, I cannot remember when your first tooth came through – it’s a haze.
So, I think of my mum. Incredible. Amazing. Loving. I could go on for days but somehow it seems empty because we have gone beyond that. I can say a million words by looking away from you and leaving a question hanging in the air. You can somehow read my hurt over the phone. You are my mum. You are irreplaceable. In fact, you are the one person on this earth that cannot be replaced. So here is something that I need to say…that i'd like you to know.
It’s hard to remember the context. It wasn’t said out of malice but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. You left the room and went upstairs without saying a word. I followed. I could feel the pain I had caused through your bedroom door. In the midst of all you were going through and all the pain you were shielding us from, I let you down. All of that...and I should throw that at you?
I can see you now, holding a crumpled piece of toilet paper in your left hand, tightly fisted with the white tissue peeping through your knuckles. Some of it is caught in your diamond ring. You tell me it’s ok. You tell me you forgive me. We hear him coming up the stairs and we both know you just want me to leave the room so you can curl up and sleep this away. I can respect that.
And then he was gone. Still hugging me, but I knew he was going to break away first. He told me to ‘get some sleep, it would be better in the morning’ and was gone. Back in bed with you. It was done.
I love you.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Some 10 years later, I became pregnant and spent the 9 months getting to know myself again. I had to. I don't know where I had lost that connection but I wound up being present with myself for the first time in years. I was my own best friend and yes, I am fully aware how pretentious this sounds. For me, being pregnant was without doubt my most lonely time to date. Not because my husband wasn't the most loving and supportive man on earth. Not even close. The pregnancy was unexpected and it took a wealth of soul searching to get to the joy I eventually experienced. I found the realization that life was going to change forever utterly overwhelming. Receiving that first lesson post discovering your pregnancy is one you never stop learning - that it's not about you anymore. We graciously and unwittingly take 2nd or 3rd or 4th place. Doesn't mean it is easy or without sacrifice.
With that said - the thought of being a hormonal 16 year, teetering on the cusp of independence and then discovering the unfathomable responsibility and hormonal insanity that accompanies pregnancy sounds not only terrifying but quite unimaginable.
This week a (dreadful) woman called Kim Kardashian suggested that a TV show called Teen Mom was to blame for a rise in teen pregnancy by glamorising the experience. I found this claim absurd. Watching a young girl repeatedly vomit, go through labor unsupported and juggle night time feedings with schoolwork is not glamorous television. We see young girls robbed of more than their figure and social life. They should be making mix tapes (okay, okay), mooning over boys and running out the door without a second thought - that's what being 16 is all about. Yes, the girls get paid for their TV appearance but I suspect they will pay a much dearer price than their 15 minutes of fame brings them. Witnessing the most punishing emotional journey a woman gets to have experienced by a young girl is far from appealing.
Plus, last time i watched Celebrity Rehab, i didn't rush out and snort my weight in coke.
I wasn't a teen mom but I was a loved up, sexually active teenager. There comes the realization that a lot of contraception and a little bit of luck is all that separates the two.