My Dearest Eli

Saturday was Mac's 2nd birthday party and with it, all hell broke loose. The day started off terribly. Your father and I were both in disgusting moods and we had been bickering and raising our voices at each other all day over nothing. Presley came home from Nick's sick last week and she was really feeling it Saturday so of course she was whiny and cranky as well. We went to Michael's basketball game and Kim didn't speak to me the entire time, of course. And put out very minimal effort when I tried to make small conversation. The only thing she seemed to enjoy as far as I was concerned was when Mark told his folks the story of me punching myself in the face. Of course, that got a giggle. Then Mimi showed up late to our house so we could ride together, inevitably making us late to the party.

The party was where the chaos really began. I don't know what triggered it, but I was an absolute basket case during the whole party. When I wasn't crying or giggling, I was zoning out or sitting absolutely silently; hoping I could fade into the background. When everyone gathered outside to chit-chat and smoke cigarettes I sat in a chair and took pictures. Then finally my brain just didn't feel like it could do the happy family setting so I let my mind wander to a different planet.

I went into the toy room to be with Presley and to try and avoid the other mothers and their annoying, needy children. Yes, I know this sounds terrible since the majority of those mother/children duos are my family, but that's how I was feeling. We sat in silence for a while and I just enjoyed watching her play and function on her own. As I should have expected, the heard of mother cows came in to the toy room and of course, somehow the topic of pregnancy and babies was brought up immediately in their extremely shallow, forced conversation. One mother(not related to my self) talked about her one year old and having baby fever. Apparently, this woman wants to get pregnant again since her pregnancy was such a breeze last time. That was the last straw. I just rose to my feet and left the room without saying another word. I drifted down the hall and forced myself straight into the bathroom where I burst into tears. Panic attack number 1. I looked at myself in the mirror and all I could think was how pathetic I must look to the rest of the world. The women who have perfect pregnancies. The parents who have never lost a child. The mothers who become pregnant at the drop of a hat. The parents who choose to ignore what blessings they have in their children. Some time between trying to ponder what a hopeless wreck I am, and wanting to tell those women to fuck off, that they would never understand, I heard the cattle graze right passed the bathroom door and into the front of the house. After I felt I could regain my composure, I went straight into the living room and sat next to my sister in law on the couch.

My sister-in-law(who was once part of the herd) and myself sat in peace for a moment before my aunt just had to come and join us. This should have been a warning sign in the first place since she is someone I am trying so very hard to avoid. After all, her own name-stealing daughter is currently pregnant. After telling her I was having a rough day and saying that I just could not handle the mere thought of babies or the sounds of other women talking about them, I told her about our move. "Blah, blah stock family response". Not even five minutes later, my sister-in-law asks my aunt how my cousin's pregnancy is going. What the actual fuck?! And my aunt begins to tell a "heart warming" tale about how the doctors feared that her pregnancy would be extremely difficult and painful but so far there is nothing wrong and besides a little discomfort, that she is doing wonderfully. Panic attack number 2. So she can have a baby with a woman beating, drug abusing loser and a second wonderful pregnancy with a man who is in prison for lying to the Air Force but I can't have one with my music pastor husband? I call bullshit! And of course right after this was discussed they decided to open presents and I couldn't go lock myself in a closet somewhere because my dumb ass volunteered to take pictures.

After cake and ice cream, we all retreated back outside. I was sitting in a circle with my brother and my husband when my sister-in-law walked over. Maybe she should be the symbol for trouble in this story? My brother asked what was wrong because I was zoning out again and it all just poured from my mouth. The flood gates were opened and there was no way of closing them again. I told him about both instances and my SIL said that last conversation was probably her fault since she is the one who asked, thus opening the conversation. Tears began to fall and I told her not to worry about it or feel bad because I'm not one to create conflict or try to make my loved-ones feel bad. Enter Melinda.

Melinda is the cousin who, during my pregnancy with Eli, told me I was stupid to be so careful and superstitious. That she was a nurse and she constantly ate whatever she wanted, dyed her hair, etc while being pregnant and that I was basically being a scaredy cat. She is the cousin who couldn't stop posting complaints that she was nauseous or that her nose was runny and basically "poor, pitiful, pregnant me" bullshit while we were getting the news that our son was dying and had the 10% odds. When my aunt, same as mentioned above, told her that she should see these things in her pregnancy as a blessing because some of her own family members didn't have it that easy, she basically responded with "That has nothing to do with my pregnancy and I can say whatever I want. It doesn't mean my child isn't a blessing.". Which I viewed as 'who cares what my own family is going through'. Have I also mentioned she slapped one of her step-daughters and told them that she hated them and only tolerated them because she loves their dad? Not a big fan of this woman. Anyway, in she walks, two hours late for my nephew's birthday party with her infant daughter. The one who clung to life when her pretentious mother dyed her hair, ate bad food, and gave zero fucks about anyone but herself. I have nothing against the child. Quinn is her name. In fact, I see her as a blessing. Parents will never fully understand the importance of their children until one has passed on. Of course, everyone passed the baby around and couldn't stop talking about how beautiful she was and how we need more babies in this family. I was on the brink of throwing my body into the freezing cold pool with no intention of trying to swim, when she was handed to my mother. That felt like the ultimate betrayal. I'm sure to anyone who hasn't been in my situation, that wouldn't seem like a big deal. But here was my mother with this baby. Talking about how long it's been since she's held a baby, hearing her coo and make baby talk. That was a heartbreak I will never be able to explain. Panic attack number 3. And since my daughter is totally and completely obsessed with my mother, she had to go over to her and see what all of the fuss was about. She just stood there wide-eyed and marveled at that baby; like she should have done with Eli. And then she walked over to ask me why we didn't have a baby. That she wanted one. Literally one of the worst feelings I have ever felt. So I looked at Mark and asked him if he would please ask my mom if she was ready to go. That I couldn't take it. He just sat beside her for awhile while she held the baby and chatted about how wonderful it all really is. I'm sure I gave him the worst look after a few moments because all of a sudden, he punched it into high gear. I guess I expected him to know that this was a situation I could not emotionally handle. One of the few times he wasn't trying to protect me, I needed his protection the most. We said all of our goodbyes and all loaded into my mothers jeep to go home. There, in the front seat of my mother's car, beside my husband, came panic attack number four. I did not even try to hold it in. It overcame me like a flame to paper. I began crying in their driveway, all the way out of Edmond, past Frontier City, and almost to downtown OKC before I felt like I could stop and breathe again. My sweet daughter was offering hugs and held my hand, telling me she loved me and that she didn't want me to be sad.. Just being her all around wonderful self. My husband set his hand on my lap, leaving me the option of whether or not I would like to take it into my own: which of course, I did. And my mother kept telling me that I wasn't allowed to cancel our shopping trip to go home and lay in bed depressed all evening. They really came through for me in the in.

Moral of the story: always take your own vehicles to family parties. And maybe some prozac.

Your father was having a rough time this morning. We both knew today would come and we both knew it would be beyond difficult. It feels like there is a blanket of sadness atop our heads and hearts today. He sat on the big chair and held your sister until the very last second today. He even let her put a princess crown on his head and that is saying something! As soon as he put her down he had to leave for work and I could tell he was having an inner struggle with leaving me here alone. Your sister is leaving for her dad's house in a few hours.

Presley and I have been coloring pictures for you all morning and I took some pictures of her with your bear. I'm hoping to track her growth as well as celebrate you at the same time. I hope that's okay. All morning I have been trying not to let many thoughts implant themselves into my mind because I have so much to do before our mini-vacation tomorrow. But I promise, as soon as I'm done cleaning and packing bags, you will probably have a novel's worth of thoughts to bore you to death.