You know that bitchy term” Get a life?”. Well I seriously think it should apply to most statuses I read on facebook. Most conversations I’ve had in the last few days. Please, I implore you, “Get a Life?”
School is NOT the only conversation I want to have with you. What? Who is copying your products? Get a life! Please. You’re the only one who cares…
It’s the hard fact and hard truth. You’re the only one who cares. Tell me about something meaningful in your life. Something deep and truthful. Something you’re yearning for and afraid to reach out and grab it.
Let me begin.
I’m so terrified I fall pregnant. Excited and terrified at the same time. It’s so difficult to think I might be making another child like Molly. Or making another child like Aidan. I can’t go through all that pyn and leiding again. I’m almost 40 for fuck’s sake. What dumb fuck has a baby at almost 40? Yes, I know, most of my friends and most of Europe! I’m still scared.
I think a spiritual intervention is needed to calm me down and reinforce my faith. You see I’ve prayed for a normal baby. And if you ask God for something, you must have the belief and faith that it will happen.
Oh my hat what have I done? This place where I’m standing, is so terribly frightening.
and very, very brave…
As Shirley Valentine once said in a dark dingy semi-detached house in London: “Well tickle my tits ’til Friday”.
Seriously, tickle my tits ’til Friday…I’m on a roll and framing up a storm today. Getting through such a lot of work. Each framing job is a responsibility as each artwork/ memorabilia is sentimental or valuable to each person. I often have a panic attack and have to talk myself into calming down and tackle each job slowly and calmly. I never EVER said I was completely sane!
Talking about sanity…I went to see a psychologist earlier this year for three sessions. I’d been feeling particularly anxious about having another child with Molly being cerebral palsy and all…and needed to talk through my fears. I am no closer to the truth within myself, as I was when I started. I did however find out that seeing someone professionally is:
- SO healthy
- I’m not as fucked up as I thought…very little in fact
- I give too much to the kids and John with little regard to myself
- it’s stuffin’ expensive
- it’s so nice to talk about myself for an hour
- she said I must have another child
- I’m still fearful as I was initially, to fall pregnant, even though I know I should get over it.
So in short, I pray and I wait. I wait for an answer to fall out the sky or for someone to come to me and tell me they’ve had an apparition that I have another normal child(actually someone did). Or God told them in a dream to tell me that I must go forth and have another child and he/she shall be normal (say in a sombre serious voice).
Forgive me for this cliche, but only time will tell. I pray I have the enormous courage and faith that will have to be with me for every second I carry the baby. Well…if I decide to.