LiveJournal Idol, Season 10, Week 18 - Intersection: The Space Between Us
This piece is an intersection with the patient and talented beeker121, who also provided excellent concrit for me on it, despite my last-minute work. Check out her entry for the flip side of my Post-Mother's Day thoughts.
Trigger warning for a somewhat graphic description of my pretty normal C-section and some of my thoughts about it. All that is in the first section if you want to scroll past.
___________________________________
The space between us began when they finally laid scalpel to unfeeling skin and slit my ripened abdomen. It still surprises me, eight and a half long years later, how low the scar is. They did a good job with that part, I suppose. Even when I get back in real bikini shape (ha! But it could happen. . .) you won't see the scar.
I imagine back to how taut everything was with the strain of you two and it's easy to imagine the split dermis just peeling right apart under such pressure from the inside. I know it couldn't quite have been like that. There was the whole abdominal wall, too, and then the sheath of peritoneum, probably glistening just like the dogs' and cats' did at back at Dr. Fox's office, where I shadowed for a profession that I didn't pursue. I wonder sometimes if either of you will be a veterinarian.
The day you were born, I wanted them to lower the barrier curtain so that I could see some part of the action, but in the rush and then in the haze of opiates, once it all finally happened, I didn't ask. I was so glad to be where we were. At the beginning of you. At the beginning of we.
We hadn't been without scares, you know. My body almost wasn't enough for the two of you. It kept trying to push you out before you were ready. The result was over two months of mandatory bedrest and several trips to the ER for early contractions, but each time they were able to stop the spasms. Good medicine, and good people, and luck and strength and as much calm as I could muster in the face of the unthinkable, and we made it almost 39 weeks by their count. We made it to the scheduled day for your Caesarian.
***
You weren't tiny for twins. Your birth weights were both close to my own. Six pounds and change, all of us. Jazzie, you were almost seven. We were all on the small side of the normal range, which is funny considering me now. You were both easy to hold close with just one arm or with two in those first months.
Later, as you got stronger, I liked to carry you in wraps and slings, snuggled close. Usually one at a time, but if you weren't moody and it wasn't too hot, you would tolerate riding together sometimes. The people at the Fresh Market were incredulous once, when I did a quick grocery run with the two of you both peeking out of the sling. Are you really okay to get everything, ma'am? But, oh the glorious freedom of a grocery run without pushing a car seat laden stroller!
***
You are both so independent in your own ways. I'm proud of your precociousness, but also afraid for what it will bring. You are strong and beautiful and female and we live in a society that doesn't make sense in so many ways.
My mom says that the hardest part of parenting is remembering that growth and change are not the enemy. Yes, it's true that the minute you get good at dealing with your kid at one stage, they move on to the next stage, which you haven't figured out yet. That's why people go on about things like "terrible twos" and "threenagers." They're still mourning the stage that they knew how to deal with, instead of grappling with the next one. I like to think that I do not suffer under the illusion that it will be anything other than a glorious roller-coaster of change from here on out.
When you found your legs, it was Annie who blasted away first, always on the go. Fearless and curious. And it's still you, Annie, that I need to watch in crowds or at the beach, who will stray farther than I am comfortable with. With you, Jazz, I'm more worried about the figurative distance between us. You do not always seek my approval when I want to have input. I think you don't always bother to tell me when you think I'm wrong. Diplomacy starts before eight, I know, but you've already surprised me with your nuanced grasp of it. If you want a career that comes with a crazy price tag, you could be a great lawyer.
I know that part of both of you growing up will be the space between us growing. But I am afraid of that. I hope I manage navigate the growing space in the right way.
***
We went to the beach last weekend; the big-wave Atlantic beach for the first swim there of 2017. You two are so strong now. You didn't feel like you needed me close by as we forged out into the surf. At first I was relieved at that, and then I realized that ensuring your safety would be harder. But I saw in both of you such joy in the wild waves. I recognized that wonderful feeling in your smiles. We ran out to the sand bar and then let ourselves be washed in, over and over, as the current pulled us probably a quarter mile or more down the beach. It was a good swim. Worth driving so far.
The three of us will have rough water to navigate in the future. There's no doubt of that. That's how life goes. But there will be joy in it too, I think; no matter the space between us.
_______________________
tonithegreat initially thought of climbing with a partner for this topic, but ended up going in a completely different and wholly maternal direction instead. This season of idol has been a crazy flurry of personal entries that she hopes you enjoy!
This entry was composed for therealljidol, Season 10. Check out that community for lots of great writing from all kinds of folks. I highly recommend it.
If you enjoyed this piece, please remember me in idol-land and vote for it when the polls go up!
Trigger warning for a somewhat graphic description of my pretty normal C-section and some of my thoughts about it. All that is in the first section if you want to scroll past.
___________________________________
The space between us began when they finally laid scalpel to unfeeling skin and slit my ripened abdomen. It still surprises me, eight and a half long years later, how low the scar is. They did a good job with that part, I suppose. Even when I get back in real bikini shape (ha! But it could happen. . .) you won't see the scar.
I imagine back to how taut everything was with the strain of you two and it's easy to imagine the split dermis just peeling right apart under such pressure from the inside. I know it couldn't quite have been like that. There was the whole abdominal wall, too, and then the sheath of peritoneum, probably glistening just like the dogs' and cats' did at back at Dr. Fox's office, where I shadowed for a profession that I didn't pursue. I wonder sometimes if either of you will be a veterinarian.
The day you were born, I wanted them to lower the barrier curtain so that I could see some part of the action, but in the rush and then in the haze of opiates, once it all finally happened, I didn't ask. I was so glad to be where we were. At the beginning of you. At the beginning of we.
We hadn't been without scares, you know. My body almost wasn't enough for the two of you. It kept trying to push you out before you were ready. The result was over two months of mandatory bedrest and several trips to the ER for early contractions, but each time they were able to stop the spasms. Good medicine, and good people, and luck and strength and as much calm as I could muster in the face of the unthinkable, and we made it almost 39 weeks by their count. We made it to the scheduled day for your Caesarian.
***
You weren't tiny for twins. Your birth weights were both close to my own. Six pounds and change, all of us. Jazzie, you were almost seven. We were all on the small side of the normal range, which is funny considering me now. You were both easy to hold close with just one arm or with two in those first months.
Later, as you got stronger, I liked to carry you in wraps and slings, snuggled close. Usually one at a time, but if you weren't moody and it wasn't too hot, you would tolerate riding together sometimes. The people at the Fresh Market were incredulous once, when I did a quick grocery run with the two of you both peeking out of the sling. Are you really okay to get everything, ma'am? But, oh the glorious freedom of a grocery run without pushing a car seat laden stroller!
***
You are both so independent in your own ways. I'm proud of your precociousness, but also afraid for what it will bring. You are strong and beautiful and female and we live in a society that doesn't make sense in so many ways.
My mom says that the hardest part of parenting is remembering that growth and change are not the enemy. Yes, it's true that the minute you get good at dealing with your kid at one stage, they move on to the next stage, which you haven't figured out yet. That's why people go on about things like "terrible twos" and "threenagers." They're still mourning the stage that they knew how to deal with, instead of grappling with the next one. I like to think that I do not suffer under the illusion that it will be anything other than a glorious roller-coaster of change from here on out.
When you found your legs, it was Annie who blasted away first, always on the go. Fearless and curious. And it's still you, Annie, that I need to watch in crowds or at the beach, who will stray farther than I am comfortable with. With you, Jazz, I'm more worried about the figurative distance between us. You do not always seek my approval when I want to have input. I think you don't always bother to tell me when you think I'm wrong. Diplomacy starts before eight, I know, but you've already surprised me with your nuanced grasp of it. If you want a career that comes with a crazy price tag, you could be a great lawyer.
I know that part of both of you growing up will be the space between us growing. But I am afraid of that. I hope I manage navigate the growing space in the right way.
***
We went to the beach last weekend; the big-wave Atlantic beach for the first swim there of 2017. You two are so strong now. You didn't feel like you needed me close by as we forged out into the surf. At first I was relieved at that, and then I realized that ensuring your safety would be harder. But I saw in both of you such joy in the wild waves. I recognized that wonderful feeling in your smiles. We ran out to the sand bar and then let ourselves be washed in, over and over, as the current pulled us probably a quarter mile or more down the beach. It was a good swim. Worth driving so far.
The three of us will have rough water to navigate in the future. There's no doubt of that. That's how life goes. But there will be joy in it too, I think; no matter the space between us.
_______________________
tonithegreat initially thought of climbing with a partner for this topic, but ended up going in a completely different and wholly maternal direction instead. This season of idol has been a crazy flurry of personal entries that she hopes you enjoy!
This entry was composed for therealljidol, Season 10. Check out that community for lots of great writing from all kinds of folks. I highly recommend it.
If you enjoyed this piece, please remember me in idol-land and vote for it when the polls go up!