I recall High School, and my moments of depression and reckless abandon. I can still remember how scared I was when I thought I was pregnant at 16. I remember the peace I felt when I meditated and knew, without a shadow of doubt, that I was and she was a girl. I can't explain how I knew, I just did.
I remember how scared I was an how isolated I felt during the pregnancy - as if I were a great shame that needed to be hidden. I never had the joy and anticipation that other mothers-to-be experience. Every discomfort was met with an air of, "Well, you're the one who went and got pregnant, deal with it." Many don't believe it occurred within two weeks of my first time. The reputation is not as bad now as it was then, but I still recall it like it was yesterday.
If I knew then what I know now, I'd have known my "discomforts" were not all normal. I'd have known they had diagnostic names like "hyperemesis gravidarum," and I'd have known it wasn't normal to vomit daily for nine months. I'd have known to report it to my nurse practitioner so they could address it and treat the ailment. I'd have known my swelling and water retention surpassed that which is considered normal and that the massive headaches were a sign of pre-eclampsia. Maybe we'd have caught it sooner and maybe they could have treated it to avoid the scary emergency induction of labor to prevent seizures and other complications. I'd have known that it is not normal to get up and find yourself standing in a pool of blood after giving birth. I'd have known that was considered "postpartum hemorrhage." But then I'd probably have been more scared than I already was, so maybe that was a blissful ignorance. I'd have had a name for the severe depression and crying spells I had postpartum. I'd have known to seek treatment. Instead I was basically told, "You got yourself into this, deal with it." So I did.
I have never regretted having my baby. She was a gift from God when I didn't realize I needed a gift. Through all the struggles, the stress, the hardship, the depression, there was my little angel shining like a star making me laugh along with her big belly laugh at the simplest silliness. There was my motivation and push to be better than I was and to live closer to my potential than I was. She is my sidekick - the one person in the world who will ALWAYS be at my side to brighten my days, encourage me, love me even with my faults and failures, and remain the greatest source of my pride and sense of accomplishment, letting me know that through it all, I must have done something right.
I recall countless days at the Exxon when I was dating "the mailman." I remember our trip to Cape May, and falling asleep in the car. I remember our trip to New Hope and kissing in the middle of the bridge "so I can say I've been kissed in two states at once." I remember thinking I was going to marry him. I remember how much my mother loved him, and how much he made me cry at the end. I remember his emotional disaster after our breakup.
I remember the stress of working at the post office and the depression when I got let go. I remember the mornings of waking up a 3 year old before dawn so I could get to work, and the following laughter when we stepped outside and she asked, "Are you sure it's morning, Mommy?"
I recall the anguish when I herniated the first 2 discs in my back at age 23, and crawling down the stairs in tears. I remember the difficulty of trying to convince the doctors I had herniated discs and not a muscle strain, and ibuprofen in massive doses wasn't helping. I remember my despair when the orthopedic knee specialist they sent me to told me he has older patients with herniated discs who don't complain of pain and trying to convince him it was too much to bear trying to keep up with a 6 year old, working full time, and full time college. I remember how I felt when he exasperatedly said, "What do you want me to do about it? Take Ibuprofen!" I remember leaving in tears.
I remember the next orthopedic clinic and the doctor telling me I was non-surgical and they only do surgery if it doesn't get better. I remember asking how much longer I had to wait before I was considered "not better." I remember the hope I had at pain management when they said, "epidurals for curative effect." I remember how bad the EMG hurt, and the despair when I couldn't get teh doctor to schedule the epidurals after it.
I recall being with Joe in our apartment in Eatontown and the anguish of trying to make that relationship work despite the now obvious signs that it wouldn't. I recall the numbness of the move and the tears over my credit debt and homelessness. I recall days spent in Keansburg playing DDR.
I recall the blood, sweat, tears, and pride of being at Brookdale. I remember how proud Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Marie, and Mom looked when I graduated. I recall the relief, pride, and accomplishment I felt.
I remember almost every hurt - the stimulus and the pain and the tears. They were many. I also remember some good times thrown in to buffer the bad. On page 156 of Brisingr by Christopher Paolini, he writes:
What will happen, will happen, and I won't waste the time I have above-ground worrying. Misfortune always comes to those who wait. The trick is to find happiness in the brief gaps between disasters.
How true!
So many things I remember from 10-15 years ago or longer. Dayna has a favorite quote by Momiji Sohma in Fruits Basket about his memories. Along those lines, I hope to never lose these memories - good and bad. They are the events and emotions and accomplishments and despairs that have shaped who I am. I don't wish to live in the past, but I do think I need to remember it and attempt to learn from it to avoid further mistakes and history repeating itself. It always does.
Onward to find happiness in this gap before my next disaster!
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