It's been one week since I arrived back in Monte di Procida and I dare say that things have gotten a wee bit better from my last post. I let off some steam by talking to my in-laws one night while we were watching the Spain vs. Russia game. La mia suocera (mother-in-law) was lamenting her financial woes and this problem that they have been having with their property and how her family was about it. I have a hard time with this stupid topic because when Salvatore was in the hospital she was crying to Mimmo about this problem on the telephone. It's a very Italian way of dealing with things - or should I say *Montesi* that when things go bad, people have to talk about all the other things that are bad or worse, etc. So, for example, my son is in the NICU. A Montesi response to this would be "And Zio Umberto has to operate for his knee and I have this problem with the Comune re:my property and Antonio just got arrested for drunk driving and...." Basically they are reactive to everything and how they often react is out of chaos. The Greeks aren't all that different, so it wasn't so much of a cultural shock for me coming into this family. But, the difference in America is that I have, well, America and my friends who do not adhere to this way of being...but I'm getting off on another tangent...
So, Gilda (the MIL) tells me how her siblings were when all this stuff went down with the property problems - nonsupportive, in a word. And, how this coincided with Salvatore being born and being in the hospital and passing, etc. How none of them even called her to say "I'm sorry" or offer any kind of support. I became like a Montesi and reactively said "Well, it's not like Mimmo's brother, Rossano called to check up on him or anything...,". Gilda & Salvatore were both a bit suprised. I told them what Rossano said to me, the 2 months after I talked to him on the phone after Salvatore's death. I told them how "brutta un esperienza" it was for Mimmo to be in another land, far away from his culture and language and family and his stupid frickin' brother who actually lives in America, didn't even call him to offer some sort of support. It felt good to be honest with them and let some stuff off my chest and Mimmo's dad ended up telling me the story of when Teresa (Mimmo's sister) called to him when he was working in the land to tell him that Salvatore had been born and to come see the pictures of him. It was so nice to actually hear them *talk* about their experience of him. How excited he was to see his photos for the first time on the internet. I am tearing up right now just thinking of it for he was also tearing up as he told me. This is all part of the experience I know...joining the other half of our worlds. Salvatore laughed when I told him what Rossano said about me having the baby in Italy next time...not in a bad way, but at Rossano's ignorance and immaturity. I explained to them how awful that was to me because I was already carrying that guilt about being responsibile for having decided that I wanted to give birth in America and not in Italy. I told Mimmo a few weeks before Salvatore's birth, with the utmost gut-reaction that I had felt like if I had given birth in Italy, neither I nor the baby would've been ok. It was an instinct I cannot explain. Another instinct I had when we were taking our childbirth classes and were encouraged to voice what our fears were - mine was not the common answer of most of the women - "the pain". Mine was "the hospital".
Anyway, it felt good to actually dialogue a bit with them and even as my MIL gave the common response - which is "We have to forget it. Let's just hope that God will give you the blessing of another child to replace Salvatore" I told her calmly and clearly that no other baby would ever replace Salvatore. That for me, to remember him is not a sad thing, anzi, it is a necessary part of andare avanti (going forward...this is the other comment they all make to me "You must go forward"). I know I can't change what people say, how they view things, how they react, etc. But I was feeling silenced from landing here and being put in my place about how I should be, how I should be acting and living, etc. Ho aperto la mia bocca. (I opened my mouth). I can only change how I am in response to all this. I have always been the "good girl", doesn't cause too much trouble, I know how to fit in and adjust to different cultures and ways of being. I'm not that girl anymore. Yet another gift that my son gave me.
Ok, I've gotten this far and have so much more to say...stories to share from Italia...but, it's time for me to get off this machine and into the blue sea. Oh, I *might* have internet by the end of this week! I'm a bit cynical, but the possibilty is there...gotta hope for the possibilties, yes....even when the belief is not there...there's always the possibility...
*baci baci tanti tanti baci*
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Ciao dal Italia
Ok, here we go. I'm on the other side of the pond now and I feel like I might as well be on another planet. It has been 1 year since I've been here. And, as you all know, so much that has happened in one year.
I'm going to try and write as much as I can from here (which probably won't be all that much). This may change if we actually get our phone and dsl set up with vodaphone, but I don't hold much hope for that. It took us 3 months last time to get our phone/dsl hooked up. God bless, Italia.
I don't know where to start. Really. I hope I can free my voice here on this damn computer, but the tears, they're already coming as I type on this keyboard. Non lo so. Maybe I have to just let myself write everything messy---there's no other way....
It is my 3rd day here. My first day, I was hugged a lot. I was also told that I must stop crying. That "he suffers in the other world" if I cry. That I must think of other things. That I am not the first nor the last that this has happened to. That Mimmo's f&%$£!king brother Rossano, whose fiance is pregnant, will name the baby Salvatore if it's a boy and Gilda if it's a girl. Are you fucking kidding me? I was thinking of Niobe's post about her nieces having such similar names. Salvatore is a name here that I can hear spesso (often). I have a nephew named Salvatore and Mimmo's father as well. It doesn't hurt at all to hear this name said or to say it myself, etc. But, really FUCK Rossano for putting this name on the next nipote. Rossano who I talked to for the first time 2 months after Salvatore passed and he said to me "You must forget everything. Just forget everything. And, please, Lisa, the next time...have the baby in Italy". Stronzo (that's Italian for asshole - y'all will learn some italiano this summer :-). The thing is is that I was told all of this upon arrival. I was not crying. I was not doing/showing/being anything yet. I know that this is *their* way of dealing with things - "un po' di mare...un po' di sole...tutta la cose si aggiustera" (a little bit of sea, a little bit of sun, and all things will come together), but I do not fit in here. Nor can I fit myself into a role that has been carved out for me here. I must somehow try and find my voice while I am here. Last night while Mimmo and I walked down the molo, the water calm on both sides I felt like screaming. "Scream!," said Mimmo. "Ma mi fa proprio schifo schifo schifo che Rossano mette il nome "Salvatore"!!!! Va fanculo Rossano....davvero va fannculo!" (It disgusts me that Rossano will put the name "Salvatore"...Fuck you, Rossano...really, fuck you.) The irony of it all is that Rossano lives in New Jersey. He's marrying an American who is 23. He's 40. She already has a baby girl who is 9 months old. And, they've been dating for a couple of months. Yes, I am a judgemental bitch. They're coming (her, the baby, her mother and step-father) in August and I also have already been asked if we can ospitare her parents in our home (our apt. is above Mimmo's parents). I told my mother-in-law that I already have other visitors coming. They can getting a fucking hotel (I didn't say that last part to her, of course :-).
Ok, time's up on this machine. I miss you all. And, I am sending lots of love from here too....
Ciao
I'm going to try and write as much as I can from here (which probably won't be all that much). This may change if we actually get our phone and dsl set up with vodaphone, but I don't hold much hope for that. It took us 3 months last time to get our phone/dsl hooked up. God bless, Italia.
I don't know where to start. Really. I hope I can free my voice here on this damn computer, but the tears, they're already coming as I type on this keyboard. Non lo so. Maybe I have to just let myself write everything messy---there's no other way....
It is my 3rd day here. My first day, I was hugged a lot. I was also told that I must stop crying. That "he suffers in the other world" if I cry. That I must think of other things. That I am not the first nor the last that this has happened to. That Mimmo's f&%$£!king brother Rossano, whose fiance is pregnant, will name the baby Salvatore if it's a boy and Gilda if it's a girl. Are you fucking kidding me? I was thinking of Niobe's post about her nieces having such similar names. Salvatore is a name here that I can hear spesso (often). I have a nephew named Salvatore and Mimmo's father as well. It doesn't hurt at all to hear this name said or to say it myself, etc. But, really FUCK Rossano for putting this name on the next nipote. Rossano who I talked to for the first time 2 months after Salvatore passed and he said to me "You must forget everything. Just forget everything. And, please, Lisa, the next time...have the baby in Italy". Stronzo (that's Italian for asshole - y'all will learn some italiano this summer :-). The thing is is that I was told all of this upon arrival. I was not crying. I was not doing/showing/being anything yet. I know that this is *their* way of dealing with things - "un po' di mare...un po' di sole...tutta la cose si aggiustera" (a little bit of sea, a little bit of sun, and all things will come together), but I do not fit in here. Nor can I fit myself into a role that has been carved out for me here. I must somehow try and find my voice while I am here. Last night while Mimmo and I walked down the molo, the water calm on both sides I felt like screaming. "Scream!," said Mimmo. "Ma mi fa proprio schifo schifo schifo che Rossano mette il nome "Salvatore"!!!! Va fanculo Rossano....davvero va fannculo!" (It disgusts me that Rossano will put the name "Salvatore"...Fuck you, Rossano...really, fuck you.) The irony of it all is that Rossano lives in New Jersey. He's marrying an American who is 23. He's 40. She already has a baby girl who is 9 months old. And, they've been dating for a couple of months. Yes, I am a judgemental bitch. They're coming (her, the baby, her mother and step-father) in August and I also have already been asked if we can ospitare her parents in our home (our apt. is above Mimmo's parents). I told my mother-in-law that I already have other visitors coming. They can getting a fucking hotel (I didn't say that last part to her, of course :-).
Ok, time's up on this machine. I miss you all. And, I am sending lots of love from here too....
Ciao
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Big day
It was a big day. It was a hard day. I can't say much more in this moment than that. Although I think I will post on the private blog later...
I am lucky for the love in my life.
I am lucky for the incredible gift that is my son. In his birth and in his death and in everything inbetween.
I just wish sometimes that it didn't have to be so big.
Time for a nap.
I am lucky for the love in my life.
I am lucky for the incredible gift that is my son. In his birth and in his death and in everything inbetween.
I just wish sometimes that it didn't have to be so big.
Time for a nap.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Meme-in
As I've been catching up on blogs, it seems that y'all have had a meme-in. It's been fun reading more about everybody and where you've been and what you'd been doing before we all met up here on this part of the road. So, I'm joining in on the meme-love. Here we go...
1. What were you doing 10 years ago?
I graduated from college. I had just written and produced my first play at school. I was planning a move to Chicago in the fall and the summertime was filled with dating someone new and babysitting an amazing girl, Annais, whose mother was a theatre actress. My cousin, Vassi was babysitting Annais' best friend, Alex and Alex's sister, Sarah and we spent our days together at the Claremont, swimming and playing lots of canasta. Before fall came, my Chicago plans got sidetracked as I got offered my first post-grad paid theatre job in SF. I worked as an assistant producer/office manager for a one-woman show and non-profit arts organization. Just before the year ended, I got an opportunity to go live and work in Ireland. I said goodbye to the theatre gig and jumped on a plane to London, not knowing that this would begin my life-long affair with travel, foreign men, and the gypsy life.
2. What 5 things are on your to-do list for today?
Well, these were 5 things (the day is now over)
- Go to Passport Center to get my name changed
- Call D & JD to reschedule, R to schedule, and A to check-in
- Get a bathing suit (uh, I finally did it) and gifts for my niece, my brother-in-law, and my mother-in-law to bring to Italy
- Do laundry
- Catch up on blogging
(Can you tell I'm done with my 3 jobs right now?!)
3. List some snacks you enjoy.
- All Mariposa goodies!
- Popcorn popped in olive oil
- Soy chai and 18 Rabbits' cheeky cherry chocolate granola bar (my Peet's fix)
- Cheese (too many kinds to name) and wine (ditto)
- Almond butter and creamed honey on whatever gluten-free fixin' I've got in the house
- Red grapes or cherries (no other fruit quite compare)
4. What would you do with a billion dollars?
This a hard one...what wouldn't I do?!?!?
- Buy us a house in Berkeley
- Open up our Italian Wine Bar/Arts Space on the San Francisco Bay
- Open up a Healing Center by the sea (either in Italy, Greece, or No. California Coast) - like a retreat center with art workshops, therapy, writing, music, dance, etc. for people in need of a place to process away from home (and have the guests' visit subsidized so that it would be open to people of all different economic backgrounds)
- Open up a charity in Salvatore's name and donate to several organizations (too many to list)
- Fund all my friends' art projects - films, theatre, music, writing
- Travel and do volunteer work around the world. Pay for my friends and family to travel too!
- This list could take me all night...
5. List the places you have lived.
Oh shit. Are you still with me?
- Redondo Beach, CA
- Oakland, CA
- San Ramon, CA
- New York, NY
- Berkeley, CA
- Santa Cruz, CA
- Dublin, Ireland
- Galway, Ireland
- Chicago, IL
- Rome, Italy
- Bacoli, Italy
- Pozzuoli, Italy
- Brooklyn (Carroll Gardens, r-e-p-r-e-s-e-n-t), NY
- Baia, Italy
- Monte di Procida, Italy
- (and because it all comes full circle), back to Oakland, CA
Oh, by the way, I only moved twice in my childhood (both times before the age of 3)
6. List the jobs you have had.
Oh, fuck...this will be harder than the places I've lived...I'm sure if I didn't lose you at #5, I've lost you now...
- Babysitter
- Art Gallery Assistant
- Office Production Assistant - "Mrs. Doubtfire"
- Bookstore Clerk/Assistant Events Coordinator
- UCSC Records Assistant
- Assistant Producer/Office Manager - "Uncle Gunjiro's Girlfriend" and First Voice
- Waitress/Hostess/Busbitch (I stole that title from G. Thanks, G.)/Cashier - sometimes, all at the same time.
- Actor
- Playwright
- Arts Education Outreach Teacher/Mentor
- Office Temp Worker
- Chicago Symphony Orchestra Tele-fundraiser
- Personal Assistant
- Middle School Substitute Drama teacher
- Assistant to the Artistic Director at Shakespeare at Stinson
- SF Elections Worker (I had to patrol voting precincts and hand-count ballots in a basement for weeks...eek...thank god I got a touring theatre gig to get me out of there!)
- Catering Server
- English Teacher
- SF Shakespeare Camp Voice & Movement Teacher
- Gluten-free Bakery Worker/Bookeeper
- After-school drama teacher
(I wrote assistant WAY too many times!)
7. List the names of people you want to know more about:
I think pretty much all of you have done this, but if there's anyone who's reading this who hasn't, consider yourself tagged.
1. What were you doing 10 years ago?
I graduated from college. I had just written and produced my first play at school. I was planning a move to Chicago in the fall and the summertime was filled with dating someone new and babysitting an amazing girl, Annais, whose mother was a theatre actress. My cousin, Vassi was babysitting Annais' best friend, Alex and Alex's sister, Sarah and we spent our days together at the Claremont, swimming and playing lots of canasta. Before fall came, my Chicago plans got sidetracked as I got offered my first post-grad paid theatre job in SF. I worked as an assistant producer/office manager for a one-woman show and non-profit arts organization. Just before the year ended, I got an opportunity to go live and work in Ireland. I said goodbye to the theatre gig and jumped on a plane to London, not knowing that this would begin my life-long affair with travel, foreign men, and the gypsy life.
2. What 5 things are on your to-do list for today?
Well, these were 5 things (the day is now over)
- Go to Passport Center to get my name changed
- Call D & JD to reschedule, R to schedule, and A to check-in
- Get a bathing suit (uh, I finally did it) and gifts for my niece, my brother-in-law, and my mother-in-law to bring to Italy
- Do laundry
- Catch up on blogging
(Can you tell I'm done with my 3 jobs right now?!)
3. List some snacks you enjoy.
- All Mariposa goodies!
- Popcorn popped in olive oil
- Soy chai and 18 Rabbits' cheeky cherry chocolate granola bar (my Peet's fix)
- Cheese (too many kinds to name) and wine (ditto)
- Almond butter and creamed honey on whatever gluten-free fixin' I've got in the house
- Red grapes or cherries (no other fruit quite compare)
4. What would you do with a billion dollars?
This a hard one...what wouldn't I do?!?!?
- Buy us a house in Berkeley
- Open up our Italian Wine Bar/Arts Space on the San Francisco Bay
- Open up a Healing Center by the sea (either in Italy, Greece, or No. California Coast) - like a retreat center with art workshops, therapy, writing, music, dance, etc. for people in need of a place to process away from home (and have the guests' visit subsidized so that it would be open to people of all different economic backgrounds)
- Open up a charity in Salvatore's name and donate to several organizations (too many to list)
- Fund all my friends' art projects - films, theatre, music, writing
- Travel and do volunteer work around the world. Pay for my friends and family to travel too!
- This list could take me all night...
5. List the places you have lived.
Oh shit. Are you still with me?
- Redondo Beach, CA
- Oakland, CA
- San Ramon, CA
- New York, NY
- Berkeley, CA
- Santa Cruz, CA
- Dublin, Ireland
- Galway, Ireland
- Chicago, IL
- Rome, Italy
- Bacoli, Italy
- Pozzuoli, Italy
- Brooklyn (Carroll Gardens, r-e-p-r-e-s-e-n-t), NY
- Baia, Italy
- Monte di Procida, Italy
- (and because it all comes full circle), back to Oakland, CA
Oh, by the way, I only moved twice in my childhood (both times before the age of 3)
6. List the jobs you have had.
Oh, fuck...this will be harder than the places I've lived...I'm sure if I didn't lose you at #5, I've lost you now...
- Babysitter
- Art Gallery Assistant
- Office Production Assistant - "Mrs. Doubtfire"
- Bookstore Clerk/Assistant Events Coordinator
- UCSC Records Assistant
- Assistant Producer/Office Manager - "Uncle Gunjiro's Girlfriend" and First Voice
- Waitress/Hostess/Busbitch (I stole that title from G. Thanks, G.)/Cashier - sometimes, all at the same time.
- Actor
- Playwright
- Arts Education Outreach Teacher/Mentor
- Office Temp Worker
- Chicago Symphony Orchestra Tele-fundraiser
- Personal Assistant
- Middle School Substitute Drama teacher
- Assistant to the Artistic Director at Shakespeare at Stinson
- SF Elections Worker (I had to patrol voting precincts and hand-count ballots in a basement for weeks...eek...thank god I got a touring theatre gig to get me out of there!)
- Catering Server
- English Teacher
- SF Shakespeare Camp Voice & Movement Teacher
- Gluten-free Bakery Worker/Bookeeper
- After-school drama teacher
(I wrote assistant WAY too many times!)
7. List the names of people you want to know more about:
I think pretty much all of you have done this, but if there's anyone who's reading this who hasn't, consider yourself tagged.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Back to life
ok, so now i have that soul II soul song in my head....remember that one? back to life, back to reality....
i tried to start a post here in the last few months about 3 times...saved, unfinished drafts with titles such as "joan didion", "making choices" and "returning to life?" with a very poignant question mark. i was having such a hard time explaining what was going on with me, let alone understanding it. basically, i fell into a very deep depression like i had never known. mimmo's always said that the hardest part was not when salvatore was born, when he was in the nicu, when we had the family meeting when they told us that there was no brain activity, when we had to decide to take him off of life support, when we took him off life support, when we had to decide if we were going to cremate him or bury him, when we picked his grave, when we had the funeral, when we buried him....all moments that at those *particular times* seemed the hardest moments. no, mimmo so astutely predicted that our hardest times where actually ahead of us...living...."moving on"...and in our case, finding out more disturbing medical information, things that did not go as they should have and trying to make sense of this life. this life...
so, i fell hard in april. it began with getting these medical records from children's. feeling betrayed and angry and unable to get the details and flashbacks and guilt and grief out of my mind. i felt like i had been kicked down the staircase to the first 3 months after salvatore's death. except this time, i was instead "in the real world"...needing to teach and function and go to my various jobs. like i said, i fell hard. so hard and so deep that i didn't know how to get myself out of it. i was, for the first time, feeling extremely suicidal and in such a "rational" way about it...when i had one day where in 2 hours i actually felt like myself and then saw myself in how i had been feeling that week...the thoughts and actions and feelings...writing suicidal notes and counting ambien pills and really, truly rationalizing the whole thing, i got so scared about who that person was....that's not me....that was deep deep depression and hopelessness and how did i even go there? ironically, (or not so ironically), i was confronted with a co-worker whose mother had just comitted suicide and then another new friend revealing to me that her father had comitted suicide when she was 10. i kept my secret hidden, ashamed. i was also confused about how i could feel so strongly in those moments and then be in another moment, where i felt ok...so, i started talking about it and sought more help. i started medication and actually called in sick 2 days to work. i am continuing writing this right now, a month later, in a very different place. how life changes -- constantly is changing.
where am i today? i am in my apartment. mimmo is in italy. i will be joining him there in 11 days. one of my best friends is pregnant and her very special son is coming in september...his due date is 3 days before salvatore's due date was and 1 day after his birth. as i am packing to put our things in storage here for the next few months while we are in italy, leila is coming over and we will be going through all of salvatore's things and see what baby malachy/malachi/malakai (i've named him...whatever his name will be, that's who he is to me :-) will be wanting. it feels really right...this new baby that's coming a year later...as if salvatore is his big brother, leila and i talked about, shepherding him on.
it's funny, this life. that same month of september, one year ago, i was very pregnant and leila and j came over to have breakfast and paint my belly cast together. i walked into the room as leila was dabbing away tears and j was handing her a kleenex and i said "what's wrong?,'. "uh, it's just hard," she said. "we've been trying. i just feel frustrated." later, j asked me in a supportive way "how was that for you?," and i said "oh, it's fine," and i hugged lei and looked at her watery eyes and said "oh, m'dear, it hasn't even been that long.," "i know" she said, still wiping away tears. "they come sometimes when you just don't expect them," and true to form...she told me later that the month that they'd stopped trying was the month that they got pregnant.
i must go as she just called and we are going to the temescal street fair...much more to say....and much love to you all with deep gratitude for your messages and understanding. deep gratitude for knowing you all, even in the seeming awfulness of this part of all our journeys. but, i can say in this moment...deep hope for all of us....for all that is to be.
much much love.
i tried to start a post here in the last few months about 3 times...saved, unfinished drafts with titles such as "joan didion", "making choices" and "returning to life?" with a very poignant question mark. i was having such a hard time explaining what was going on with me, let alone understanding it. basically, i fell into a very deep depression like i had never known. mimmo's always said that the hardest part was not when salvatore was born, when he was in the nicu, when we had the family meeting when they told us that there was no brain activity, when we had to decide to take him off of life support, when we took him off life support, when we had to decide if we were going to cremate him or bury him, when we picked his grave, when we had the funeral, when we buried him....all moments that at those *particular times* seemed the hardest moments. no, mimmo so astutely predicted that our hardest times where actually ahead of us...living...."moving on"...and in our case, finding out more disturbing medical information, things that did not go as they should have and trying to make sense of this life. this life...
so, i fell hard in april. it began with getting these medical records from children's. feeling betrayed and angry and unable to get the details and flashbacks and guilt and grief out of my mind. i felt like i had been kicked down the staircase to the first 3 months after salvatore's death. except this time, i was instead "in the real world"...needing to teach and function and go to my various jobs. like i said, i fell hard. so hard and so deep that i didn't know how to get myself out of it. i was, for the first time, feeling extremely suicidal and in such a "rational" way about it...when i had one day where in 2 hours i actually felt like myself and then saw myself in how i had been feeling that week...the thoughts and actions and feelings...writing suicidal notes and counting ambien pills and really, truly rationalizing the whole thing, i got so scared about who that person was....that's not me....that was deep deep depression and hopelessness and how did i even go there? ironically, (or not so ironically), i was confronted with a co-worker whose mother had just comitted suicide and then another new friend revealing to me that her father had comitted suicide when she was 10. i kept my secret hidden, ashamed. i was also confused about how i could feel so strongly in those moments and then be in another moment, where i felt ok...so, i started talking about it and sought more help. i started medication and actually called in sick 2 days to work. i am continuing writing this right now, a month later, in a very different place. how life changes -- constantly is changing.
where am i today? i am in my apartment. mimmo is in italy. i will be joining him there in 11 days. one of my best friends is pregnant and her very special son is coming in september...his due date is 3 days before salvatore's due date was and 1 day after his birth. as i am packing to put our things in storage here for the next few months while we are in italy, leila is coming over and we will be going through all of salvatore's things and see what baby malachy/malachi/malakai (i've named him...whatever his name will be, that's who he is to me :-) will be wanting. it feels really right...this new baby that's coming a year later...as if salvatore is his big brother, leila and i talked about, shepherding him on.
it's funny, this life. that same month of september, one year ago, i was very pregnant and leila and j came over to have breakfast and paint my belly cast together. i walked into the room as leila was dabbing away tears and j was handing her a kleenex and i said "what's wrong?,'. "uh, it's just hard," she said. "we've been trying. i just feel frustrated." later, j asked me in a supportive way "how was that for you?," and i said "oh, it's fine," and i hugged lei and looked at her watery eyes and said "oh, m'dear, it hasn't even been that long.," "i know" she said, still wiping away tears. "they come sometimes when you just don't expect them," and true to form...she told me later that the month that they'd stopped trying was the month that they got pregnant.
i must go as she just called and we are going to the temescal street fair...much more to say....and much love to you all with deep gratitude for your messages and understanding. deep gratitude for knowing you all, even in the seeming awfulness of this part of all our journeys. but, i can say in this moment...deep hope for all of us....for all that is to be.
much much love.
Monday, April 14, 2008
I don't know how to do this anymore
Ladies, I have hit a block.
It is so big and here I am trying to break through it.
I feel like I can't write. Feel like I can't do anything but cry. Feel like I can't see a reason to be here anymore, even though Mimmo is here...he's my reason...I can't believe my pessimistic husband ("I'm a realist," he always says) has this iron will to live, to move on, to get through this....and he believes that we will get better...that we have to...that there's too much of life that we need to live. "Dobbiamo lottare," he says ("We have to fight on"). I am tired. I just see a black hole. Pain. Injustice. I don't feel like I fit in anymore with my family, with my friends, with the world.
My co-worker asked me "how was your weekend?" after she told me that she went camping. I was truly happy for her that she had such a good weekend, enjoying the first day of the camping season. But, when she asked me "how was your weekend?," "what did you do?," I just didn't know how to respond. I spent the weekend crying and raging. Mimmo worked and I holed up for the most part in the apartment. It was hot and it felt like summer had come and I just wanted the day to become night. I told D that honestly, I don't even remember what I did this weekend.
I stare at Mimmo when he's sleeping and see Salvatore. I freaked out this morning because I thought he'd stopped breathing.
I have flashbacks everywhere. On the train. On my 10 min. break between classes. In line at Peet's. So many times when I see a baby.
Time is moving and it's now past 6 months...When M & I talked about ttc (he wanted to immediately), I said I wasn't ready and that maybe I would be at 6 months. I still feel scared and although I desperately want a baby, I also want Salvatore. However, in the last couple of weeks, I've been doing the looking at Italian baby names on the net thing. Oh, I also google drama school classmates to torture myself and see what they are doing with their lives while I'm a lost deadbabymamma. One of them just did a panel with Matthew Modine, some are touring with bands, and others are plugging away in New York. I know that I can't compare myself, especially now, but I don't know what to believe in anymore...about who I am, where I'm going, or what I want anymore.
So many tears, I feel numb.
It is so big and here I am trying to break through it.
I feel like I can't write. Feel like I can't do anything but cry. Feel like I can't see a reason to be here anymore, even though Mimmo is here...he's my reason...I can't believe my pessimistic husband ("I'm a realist," he always says) has this iron will to live, to move on, to get through this....and he believes that we will get better...that we have to...that there's too much of life that we need to live. "Dobbiamo lottare," he says ("We have to fight on"). I am tired. I just see a black hole. Pain. Injustice. I don't feel like I fit in anymore with my family, with my friends, with the world.
My co-worker asked me "how was your weekend?" after she told me that she went camping. I was truly happy for her that she had such a good weekend, enjoying the first day of the camping season. But, when she asked me "how was your weekend?," "what did you do?," I just didn't know how to respond. I spent the weekend crying and raging. Mimmo worked and I holed up for the most part in the apartment. It was hot and it felt like summer had come and I just wanted the day to become night. I told D that honestly, I don't even remember what I did this weekend.
I stare at Mimmo when he's sleeping and see Salvatore. I freaked out this morning because I thought he'd stopped breathing.
I have flashbacks everywhere. On the train. On my 10 min. break between classes. In line at Peet's. So many times when I see a baby.
Time is moving and it's now past 6 months...When M & I talked about ttc (he wanted to immediately), I said I wasn't ready and that maybe I would be at 6 months. I still feel scared and although I desperately want a baby, I also want Salvatore. However, in the last couple of weeks, I've been doing the looking at Italian baby names on the net thing. Oh, I also google drama school classmates to torture myself and see what they are doing with their lives while I'm a lost deadbabymamma. One of them just did a panel with Matthew Modine, some are touring with bands, and others are plugging away in New York. I know that I can't compare myself, especially now, but I don't know what to believe in anymore...about who I am, where I'm going, or what I want anymore.
So many tears, I feel numb.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
6 months right around the corner
It will be 6 months this Wednesday, March 19th.
6 fucking months. Seems pretty unbelievable.
Where am I now at 6 months? I've just started 2 new jobs. I am teaching English at an EFL school in SF and teaching in an afterschool drama program through a theatre co. I am still working at the bakery through the end of this month. I have been "functioning" pretty well in this new world so far (it's just been 1 week), but I guess it helps being in a brand new environment where no one knows me. The truth of the matter is though, that I don't know me.
Who is this person who wakes up in the morning and goes on with her day? Smiles and laughs even. Slips in a conversation with a customer, when asked, that the reason she wears her wedding ring around her necklace is because she hasn't lost the baby weight yet to fit it on her finger. Forgets that this, of course, means more questions and when the customer asks "How old is your baby?," she responds so calmly, "Oh, we lost him,". Who is this person?
I feel like an alien, studying how to be in the world. Feel like an alien, because I don't know *how* to be in this world. The only time I feel like I'm not an alien is when I am reading the blogs of all you incredible women in deadbaby land. I didn't start this blog thinking that I would find other women like me. I started it because I couldn't keep my mouth shut any longer. And, when I started it, I sent an email to dear friends to reach out & share. My first comment was from a woman who randomly found my blog and had lost her first daughter 16 years ago. She went on to have 4 other daughters, she shared.
About a week after my first post, I found the babylossdirectory blog and peered through the incredible number of blogs. So many of us. So many.
6 months I am still swimming through this process. I honestly haven't been one to mark time. I don't often think about Salvatore in terms of how old he would be. He seemed to be everything he was just in those 10 days. But 6 months feels big. Just last week when I was on the bus, a woman sat next to me with her baby who started tugging at me right away. I asked how old he was. 6 months. Issac. A big boy. He's in his "grabbing stage".
This week, I am not looking forward to. I want to do something special on Wednesday for Salvatore and for us. I don't know yet what that is. Tomorrow Mimmo and I have our interview with immigration. You're supposed to bring pictures from your wedding. I will be bringing pictures also of the 3 of us - our family.
6 fucking months. Seems pretty unbelievable.
Where am I now at 6 months? I've just started 2 new jobs. I am teaching English at an EFL school in SF and teaching in an afterschool drama program through a theatre co. I am still working at the bakery through the end of this month. I have been "functioning" pretty well in this new world so far (it's just been 1 week), but I guess it helps being in a brand new environment where no one knows me. The truth of the matter is though, that I don't know me.
Who is this person who wakes up in the morning and goes on with her day? Smiles and laughs even. Slips in a conversation with a customer, when asked, that the reason she wears her wedding ring around her necklace is because she hasn't lost the baby weight yet to fit it on her finger. Forgets that this, of course, means more questions and when the customer asks "How old is your baby?," she responds so calmly, "Oh, we lost him,". Who is this person?
I feel like an alien, studying how to be in the world. Feel like an alien, because I don't know *how* to be in this world. The only time I feel like I'm not an alien is when I am reading the blogs of all you incredible women in deadbaby land. I didn't start this blog thinking that I would find other women like me. I started it because I couldn't keep my mouth shut any longer. And, when I started it, I sent an email to dear friends to reach out & share. My first comment was from a woman who randomly found my blog and had lost her first daughter 16 years ago. She went on to have 4 other daughters, she shared.
About a week after my first post, I found the babylossdirectory blog and peered through the incredible number of blogs. So many of us. So many.
6 months I am still swimming through this process. I honestly haven't been one to mark time. I don't often think about Salvatore in terms of how old he would be. He seemed to be everything he was just in those 10 days. But 6 months feels big. Just last week when I was on the bus, a woman sat next to me with her baby who started tugging at me right away. I asked how old he was. 6 months. Issac. A big boy. He's in his "grabbing stage".
This week, I am not looking forward to. I want to do something special on Wednesday for Salvatore and for us. I don't know yet what that is. Tomorrow Mimmo and I have our interview with immigration. You're supposed to bring pictures from your wedding. I will be bringing pictures also of the 3 of us - our family.
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