3 years ago I was probably waiting for our DJ to announce the bridal party to get the dinner started. Our DJ was bad, he was missing in action at the 3 most intricate times during the wedding and reception. But it was still fun.
And I still love Aaron. Almost everyday.
Happy anniversary babe!
Two years ago today we buried my dad. I’m done being politically correct in this situation. So let me just say that if there are family members who read this site and are offended by that - stick it. I’m entitled to this, surprise … little Jodi has a mind of her own - oh and feelings. Forgot about those didn’t we.
The past two years have been beyond painful for me. Learning to be a new mother and wife in the midst of one of the greatest losses I’ve experienced in my short life. I’m pretty sure that in the midst of living life I forgot to grieve or was afraid of it - and I’m still going through shock and loyalties and all kinds of mixed up emotions.
There are days that go by without me even thinking about my dad and I feel selfish and guilty about it. Then there are days when I can’t think about anything else and I wallow in pity because, to be honest, other than a select few - after the funeral, no one even asked me how I was doing. They asked about my mom. She was married to him. Apparently since he was technically my step dad I pretty much didn’t exist in the realm of grieving for him because I still have a dad. How callous of me to claim I lost mine?
I’m angry. I’m angry because I do love my birth dad but sadly I’ve never had the relationship with him that I did with Wayne and for reasons I won’t go into I clung to Wayne. I loved Wayne, Wayne was my dad. I have 2 dad’s. And I lost one. I lost a very important one. I’m angry that to this day my birth father hasn’t acknowledged the pain I go through daily. As hard as that may be for him and as selfish as that may be of me - it would make a world of difference to me if he would just acknowledge that my feelings are real.
I’m angry that I even feel this way. There are big issues with loyalty and children of divorce - when you’re at mom’s house, do you hate dad? And when you’re at dad’s house, do you hate mom? Is it ok to have fun at one house, more than the other? What if I don’t like the rules at that house, or why don’t I have the same toys? Why are my friends different here and when can I see my cat again?
I have those same issues only I’m not dealing with different houses I’m dealing with different people. Both play the same role in my life but it’s even harder because not only my feelings are involved, but theirs are too. And it’s very evident that one is threatened by the other while one just loved me, regardless of my feelings for him or the other one.
I don’t want to be forgotten anymore. I don’t want to be angry anymore and I don’t want to feel sorry for my grief anymore. I am grieving. The loss of a lifetime. I just want my daddy back.
I’ve heard stories from other mothers while I was growing up about how “they should have known - he was like that from the beginning”. Or some mom’s refer to the birthing experience in reference to how they’ve always been. Like - “Oh that Jeffery, when I was in labor with him the doctors wanted to break my water to get things going and I said no, I just knew he would come in his own time. Just like getting his bachelor degree at 45 and getting that 6 figure job he’s always wanted, he just does it on his own time, but he always gets it done.”
Or the people we all hate - “Of course she’s already the VP of that firm, she was a week early, surprised us all, and I couldn’t get to that hospital fast enough - I about had her in the waiting room.”
Neither of these stories works for me. Jessica came when she was good and ready - but the doctor did break my water, and it still took more than 16 hours to deliver. I just wonder if I’m going to have a story like that in 20 years. But I’m more worried about what I’ll reference it to.
I can’t decide if I’ll be referring to the days when she tore her books apart and used all of her toys in the manner in which they were not made for - that of which is hurtling them across the room or banging them into my hardwood floors. Or biting them.
Will I be that mother who says - “Well I guess I should have seen that coming, we tried endlessly to get her to respect her belongings but she just always had her way with these things. I suppose that fence post just didn’t know what was coming when she decided to see how many rpm’s it would take her to get smoke coming our of her engine. Good thing that elderly home was being remodeled and all the residents were in the homes across town. Now that would have been bad.”
Not that I believe Jessica is, in any way, going to hurt elderly people when she gets her license, or that she will get her license. But does this end? The never-ending-battle-to-see-how-many-different-ways-I-can-get-this-certain-object-to-do-what-it-wasn’t-made-for stage?
I mean, ever?
It finally happened. After seeing an ultrasound picture with the thumb in the baby’s mouth and giving birth to a baby girl who immediately stuck her thumb in her mouth only to have a pacifier shoved in it days later - tonight … she sucked her thumb!
Most of you are thinking I’m a lunatic. Why would this be the outcome I was hoping for after taking away her pacifier.
I sucked my thumb until the age of 11.
I *finally* gave up my ki-ki, think blanket, a little past midnight September 11, 2005. I was turning 22 in a few days and had a moment of clarity where I actually told my husband to throw my blanket away now, or never.
He put it in a garbage bag and hid it in the garage - then threw it away a week later. He told me this about a month after I asked him do it, when I was BEGGING him to give it back to me because I thought he had the wherewithal to know I wasn’t ready.
Apparently, I was.
To this day if someone talks about a thumb or sucking a thumb, my left thumb tingles as if it was amputated and I was having phantom sensations. Not lying. It’s doing it right now, even writing about it.
You can imagine the comfort and joy my thumb and ki-ki brought to my life, still does in retrospect. Why wouldn’t I wish the same comfort and joy for my own babies? Plus it’s freaking adorable.
These are the only 4 photos I have of Jessica sucking her thumb or fingers when I was still counting the months to dictate her age. I would hold her with her thumb in her mouth hoping I was helping her “find her fingers” but really I just wanted her to catch on.
She did it in utero and in the hospital but then she got confused about those things that were flying past her face, and the big purple thing that feeds me. I think she forgot all about it. Plus we gave her a pacifier because she cried so much. (blatant lie) I don’t know why we gave her a pacifier. Probably to keep her sleeping longer. I don’t remember.
Actually the only fantasies I had about having a baby were that it would have curly hair, suck it’s thumb and oddly enough be a cuddler - or calm enough to cuddle. Jessica has and is none of these. But she does have dimples. And she can stick her whole hand in her mouth.
Just a quick update - the binki battle is won. She’s decided not use them anymore - even when offered a brand new one - the binki is no more!
Today we were with my sister’s and their kids, and the babies have pacifiers - Jessica would pick one up from across the room and bring it to the babies … didn’t even think to put it in her mouth! YEAH!
Now time for some shopping … I have some bribes I need to make good on.