8 thoughts on “Haunted”

  1. Great post.
    I’ve noticed that the more I fall in love with Adele (which is crazy in itself because always, at any given moment, I will tell you that I absolutely could not love this person any more than I already do – and yet, the next moment, I love her more), the more afraid I get. My fear, is not so much the ‘terror face’, like yours (although that’s scary too). It’s that I’ll lose her. It’s that something will happen that is far beyond my control – cancer, car accident, even kidnapping – and she’ll be gone. I do everything I can, every second of every day, to give her every opportunity to have a safe, healthy, happy life. And, my biggest fear is that in one instant, that will all be gone. I honestly don’t know how I could ever survive.

  2. I hope sweet Isaac is on the mend and that you never have to see that face again! It was the vaccinations that always had me crying harder than the kids. UGH!

    @Nicole – I feel the same way. It’s not so much the hurt they feel (though as a new mom it surely was). Mine are 12 and 14 now and the fear that something will happen to them is what haunts me. I don’t know how mothers of children that are kidnapped or die go on. I just don’t. πŸ™

  3. Oh Jen, I understand. That face is heartbreaking. It’s horrible to feel so helpless. For months and months when Jackson was very little gruesome scenes would flash through my sleep-deprived brain – Jackson’s little body tumbling down stairs (always cement), walking in to find him lifeless in his crib, car accidents and many others. It’s impossible to un-think or un-see those things and they stick with you. There is so much love, and the horrible chance for unfathomable pain. But oh there is SO much love and while everything is fine that’s what I use to push out those unwelcome thoughts and worries. And when they are in pain, or afraid, like Isaac was, all you can do is hold them close, talk softly in their ears and let them know that everything will be ok, often that is as reassuring and comforting for you as it is for them. πŸ™‚

  4. I read somewhere that becoming a mother opens up a part of your soul to be so much more vulnerable to the emotions of others. Fear, delight, pain, joy, disappointment… a mother, especially a new mother, experiences this with a certain rawness. I fully agree with whoever said that. “They” also said that as your child grows and gets older, that open space where the human condition gets into your soul gradually narrows so you’re not quite so vulnerable to being haunted by things, but it never completely closes itself. That’s such an accurate representation of how I have experienced others’ emotions since Simon was born. I’m no longer quite as vulnerable but still there is more rawness than before Simon was born.

    Anyways… that’s not necessarily related to your post, but it’s what I thought of when I read this. *hugs* – yes, it will haunt you and no, it won’t be the last time something hits you like this.

    Lately my “mom emotion education” is all about realizing that Simon is not an open book to me. I always thought that when he became verbal he would share with me his thoughts about the world… but nope. He’s a closed book. I think our communication is VERY good but that doesn’t mean he shares his private funny little observations about the world. Sometimes he chuckles and won’t tell me why. That kills me.

  5. In a nutshell, to summarize my previous comment, becoming a mother “levels up” your total suck factor. I am an unabashed total suck, so re-reading your post made me verklempt. I embrace that level of suckedness because it shows me the sheer depth of human emotion.

    Yes, I think I WILL have another glass. Thank you for asking!

  6. Having been in the mom game for a good number of years those feelings never go away, they just change. I remember when my youngest had a period of night terrors, that scared the bejesus out of me (and his brother) because nothing I did calmed him down in his limbo between sleep and consciousness. He was seeing things that weren’t there and looking at them in abject horror but after he had no memory of it but I sure did!

    Your instinct is to try and wake them or cuddle them but that doesn’t work. I had to just make sure he didn’t hurt himself and watch and that totally sucked. My doctor said it would resolve itself and it did after a couple of weeks but man that anxiety!

  7. One day when my usually quiet niece started screaming her little lungs out in terror my dad, brother, and sister-in-law ran outside to find out what had happened. Earlier in the day they had given my eight year old niece a pair of pruning shears, a quick how-to, and a caution to be careful so that she could help her grandparents out by cutting back some of the blackberries that were taking over their yard.

    My niece was carried inside crying her heart out and unable to talk. Everybody thought that she had cut off a finger or some other likely appendage but nobody could see any blood. Turns out that she’d been pricked by the thorns of the bush in the soft underside of her upper arm.

    My sister-in-law sat with her eight year old daughter on her lap rocking her back and forth, petting her hair, and whispering comfortingly in her ear while she tried desperately to catch her own breath and attempted to channel the adrenaline in her body into comforting her daughter.

    After a while my sister-in-law quipped that she’d once read that having children was like taking your heart, removing it, and holding it outside of your body. My wonderful father – also given too much excitement by the crying grandchild – added that it was definitely like keeping your heart outside of your body, and then somebody giving it a good swift kick every once in a while.

    That always struck me as particularly accurate: Having children is like keeping your heart outside of your body, and it being kicked every once in a while when you’re least expecting it.

    I hope he’s feeling better, and that you stop hearing his harrowing cries of pain whenever you think of your worst fears. If not? It probably means he’s got a good mom who puts him ahead of herself and who would do anything she’s capable of to make it stop. Not everyone gets that.

  8. Ugh caustic diaper rash… the worst! Until someone shared with me the secret of no more diaper rash – lol. Works like a charm… buy plain cornstarch in bulk and throw in a tablespoon or two into each fresh diaper. It gets rid of and prevents diaper rash, I swear it sucks the redness right out of the skin and surprisingly fast too πŸ™‚

Comments are closed.