So many things have been changing lately. I can't even really explain all the things I feel inside. I am happy and sad, angry, resentful, lonely, yet proud, and supportive. What am I talking about? Pretty much everything, I guess.
A few weeks ago, on Memorial Day weekend, C went away for the weekend with my parents, so J and I finally got to spend 4 straight days with each other. It was the first time in the entirety of our relationship that we had been apart from the moment he dropped me off on Saturday night to Friday afternoon. The first night, Friday, we went to dinner and to see the Hangover 2. It was a good time, but I felt almost like we had the awkwardness of a first date all over again. It was a totally abnormal feeling that we were eventually able to shake off by the end of the night. The next day, Saturday, J had school and picked me up when he was done so we could enjoy a night "away" together. Our "night away" was actually a "staycation" at a really nice hotel I have really fallen in love with in Long Beach called Hotel Maya. It was beautiful, the weather was fabulous, but things once again didn't feel completely right.
The Saturday night we spent out in Long Beach, ended up with us heading to a restaurant with "happy hour" and the UFC fight. While there, J and I made friends with the couple sitting next to us at the bar. Before I knew it, J was pretty tipsy and the night wasn't so fun anymore. We went back to the room, and eventually fell asleep, him on one side of the bed, and me on the other, no longer cuddling like we used to when we were able to get time alone together. The morning consisted of us getting up, getting ready and meeting his brother and nephew at the beach. Needless to say, I was very disappointed by the lack of passion and desire we once had for each other. I was very hurt and heartbroken, as I felt like he was no longer attracted to me like he once was. As it is, J and I rarely can spend the night together, and the one night he had me, he didn't want me. It was the first time in this relationship that I wasn't confident about US and where we were headed.
The rest of our Sunday was eventful. We met up with J's brother and nephew at Bolsa Chica Beach. It was super windy so we left and headed to J's house where we laid out by the pool to continue our tans, had some dinner, and attempted to watch tv despite the burns on our legs from too much sun. On Monday, I was back at J's for a Memorial Day bbq, but I didn't quite feel like myself. I was more quiet and reserved, not the girl I usually I am. I guess I had a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions in my head and they wouldn't cease to exist, so I was better off keeping my mouth shut. I was still hurt about the lack of sex from our mini getaway, and I didn't know how to shake it off.
The following week was our 6 month "anniversary". I made him a picture book of all the cool things we have done together during the past 6 months we have been dating. I put in pictures of our first date, random text messages and museum pictures. I wrote to him about how I felt about him and how I look forward to the future. I cried when I gave it to him. It meant alot to me and I felt that by giving him that book, I gave him a physical piece of my heart.
The "anniversary" weekend was uneventful, pretty much like any other weekend, nothing different. I don't know if I was expecting it to be different, but I do know that at the end of it, I was slightly disappointed. Am I expecting too much for him to acknowledge what a milestone 6 months is? or was that only significant to me? Maybe I should've just known better than to think he would assume the importance of reaching such a milestone. He's not a mind reader, and I can't honestly expect him to know what I'm thinking, yet I feel stupid if I explain to him how I feel about these things.
Here we are, a week and a few days later. Things are getting more difficult the deeper J gets into school - for me and for him. Last week was another 6 days without each other week, and to top it off I was really sick. All I wanted was to be in his arms and to have him take care of me, and I didn't get that. I feel selfish to complain about how I feel like I am at the bottom of the totem pole. I feel like I am no longer important to him and that I am more of a distraction to him than anything. I feel that by opening my mouth and telling him that I feel lonely and sad and depressed about our relationship situation, I am failing as his girlfriend. I can't fail, I have to be strong to get him through this, even if it means putting my feelings aside. I keep asking myself if this is a test from God, to see how truly strong I am. If it is, it's not a nice one.
I really just want to be happy again. I miss the days of us rolling around in the sheets together, being in each others arms till its late and time to go home. I miss feeling like I am important to him. I miss the days of exploring new places and things together, and even going to the gym together. I am really trying my best to stay strong. I don't plan on giving up because I know what a good thing I have in him, yet I am so afraid he will give up on me for not being a good enough girlfriend. I struggle with trying to figure out how to be a "good enough girlfriend" for him. I've never been in this situation before, and I don't know how to not be selfish just a little bit.
Sigh...
I'll get through this. No, scratch that, WE'LL get through this.... With bumps, bruises, and scrapes, I don't plan on leaving his side. I can only pray that he'll still want me there at the end of it all.
Showing posts with label disappointment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label disappointment. Show all posts
Monday, June 13, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Sisters
I have always learned that you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family. I always thought that sounded so cliche, but the older I get the more I believe it. Sadly, after 28 years, I am stuck with the family I have been given and nothing aside from creating my own will change that.
I have two sisters, E and D. Between E and I is 4 years, and between D and I is a 7 year age gap. All three of us are as different as night and day. I'd like to say that despite our differences, we are as close as can be... but then I would be lying. I don't know when this rivalry between us sisters began, but it has been there since the beginning and it doesn't look like there will be an end in sight.
The girls and I have never gotten along. Verbal, physical, emotional fighting has always gone on in this house between us three. For years and years my parents would talk about how much it hurt them to see the way we fought and told us time and time again that we needed to stick together because if something happened to them, we would only have each other. It was always the same thing over and over again for years, and it only got worse after I gave birth to C.
Mom and dad would baby the girls, doing anything and everything they could for them. The moment they found out about my pregnancy with C, they went into a rage. Being called a whore and a slut was a common occurrence. They hated that it was no longer about them, but rather about this new baby that was about to come into our family. They were always mean to me, but did their best to be the best aunts possible to C.
After I had Hope, things in our household escalated. Granted I kept my pregnancy a secret all 9 months for the fear of what they would say or do to me (I was more afraid of my sisters' torment than my parents' disappointment), no one in our family took into consideration that I made a sacrifice of a lifetime for the benefit of everyone in this household. I thought about how the birth of another child would would affect each and every person in this family before I thought about how the adoption would affect myself. While I didn't consult with the family, I did what was best for Hope, C and the rest of my family. I never once thought about what kind of emptiness I would be left with. I didn't need to, I knew this was the best choice for everyone involved. It was the first adult decision I made on my own that I didn't regret.
If only I knew how bad things would get after placement. It started when I was in the hospital recuperating from having given birth. My mother made it a point to call me and mention that my youngest sister said she no longer had "anyone to look up to". I knew that was the beginning of what I have basically called hell. Not only did I have to deal with the disappointment and misunderstanding of my decision to place my daughter into the hands of another family from my parents, I've had to endure the emotional abuse from my sisters. It has been the most disheartening thing to deal with and one of the things that has slowly killed me till this day, 5 1/2 years later.
I have been called every name in the book by my own sisters. I have been thrown under the bus plenty of times by them. I have trusted them with my secrets and problems just to have them talked about to my parents, or their boyfriends and friends. They have blamed me for every problem in their lives and have used me as a scapegoat and excuse for "ruining" their lives and our family. I have been called good for nothing and a "loser older sister". I have heard plenty of times over and over that they "never want to be like" me. They made me seem like a horrible person, when in reality I am not. Instead of being happy for me when good things happen in my life, they find ways to bring me down, accusing me of thinking I'm better than them or minimizing my accomplishments so that they don't seem like anything big. They have never wished me a Happy Mother's Day, citing that I'm not a "real" mom because I "give away" my babies and let my parents help me take care of my son. It's been one thing after another of painful stabs to my heart from the girls I am supposed to call my SISTERS.
I could sit here and write for days about all the things my siblings do and don't do that really make me angry. I could talk for days about the lack of a drive to succeed in life, being content with living off of mommy and daddy for the rest of their lives and having the expectation of that being what my parents are here for. I could write about how self-centered, judgemental and hypocritical these girls are and how that is probably why they have no friends other than "Facebook friends" and their boyfriends. I could call them the ugliest girls in the world (on the inside), but I won't stoop to that level because after all, I AM better than them.
I work hard for everything I have. I strive for success and a better life. I have a happy and healthy relationship and am content with the decisions I have made that have gotten me to where I am at in my life, always doing my best to improve my life, through work, school, etc. I have come to the conclusion that I will never have a relationship with these girls like most sisters have with each other. I will never be able to call them when I have good news, or bad news. I will never have them over to share a dinner or holidays with my family. I will never be close to them and while it breaks my heart, it is something I am going to have to accept. If it hasn't changed in the past 24 years, it won't change any time soon. I pray to God that they will one day see the damage they have done and realize how their behavior has really ruined a relationship they will never get back. Hopefully by then, it's not too late....
I have two sisters, E and D. Between E and I is 4 years, and between D and I is a 7 year age gap. All three of us are as different as night and day. I'd like to say that despite our differences, we are as close as can be... but then I would be lying. I don't know when this rivalry between us sisters began, but it has been there since the beginning and it doesn't look like there will be an end in sight.
The girls and I have never gotten along. Verbal, physical, emotional fighting has always gone on in this house between us three. For years and years my parents would talk about how much it hurt them to see the way we fought and told us time and time again that we needed to stick together because if something happened to them, we would only have each other. It was always the same thing over and over again for years, and it only got worse after I gave birth to C.
Mom and dad would baby the girls, doing anything and everything they could for them. The moment they found out about my pregnancy with C, they went into a rage. Being called a whore and a slut was a common occurrence. They hated that it was no longer about them, but rather about this new baby that was about to come into our family. They were always mean to me, but did their best to be the best aunts possible to C.
After I had Hope, things in our household escalated. Granted I kept my pregnancy a secret all 9 months for the fear of what they would say or do to me (I was more afraid of my sisters' torment than my parents' disappointment), no one in our family took into consideration that I made a sacrifice of a lifetime for the benefit of everyone in this household. I thought about how the birth of another child would would affect each and every person in this family before I thought about how the adoption would affect myself. While I didn't consult with the family, I did what was best for Hope, C and the rest of my family. I never once thought about what kind of emptiness I would be left with. I didn't need to, I knew this was the best choice for everyone involved. It was the first adult decision I made on my own that I didn't regret.
If only I knew how bad things would get after placement. It started when I was in the hospital recuperating from having given birth. My mother made it a point to call me and mention that my youngest sister said she no longer had "anyone to look up to". I knew that was the beginning of what I have basically called hell. Not only did I have to deal with the disappointment and misunderstanding of my decision to place my daughter into the hands of another family from my parents, I've had to endure the emotional abuse from my sisters. It has been the most disheartening thing to deal with and one of the things that has slowly killed me till this day, 5 1/2 years later.
I have been called every name in the book by my own sisters. I have been thrown under the bus plenty of times by them. I have trusted them with my secrets and problems just to have them talked about to my parents, or their boyfriends and friends. They have blamed me for every problem in their lives and have used me as a scapegoat and excuse for "ruining" their lives and our family. I have been called good for nothing and a "loser older sister". I have heard plenty of times over and over that they "never want to be like" me. They made me seem like a horrible person, when in reality I am not. Instead of being happy for me when good things happen in my life, they find ways to bring me down, accusing me of thinking I'm better than them or minimizing my accomplishments so that they don't seem like anything big. They have never wished me a Happy Mother's Day, citing that I'm not a "real" mom because I "give away" my babies and let my parents help me take care of my son. It's been one thing after another of painful stabs to my heart from the girls I am supposed to call my SISTERS.
I could sit here and write for days about all the things my siblings do and don't do that really make me angry. I could talk for days about the lack of a drive to succeed in life, being content with living off of mommy and daddy for the rest of their lives and having the expectation of that being what my parents are here for. I could write about how self-centered, judgemental and hypocritical these girls are and how that is probably why they have no friends other than "Facebook friends" and their boyfriends. I could call them the ugliest girls in the world (on the inside), but I won't stoop to that level because after all, I AM better than them.
I work hard for everything I have. I strive for success and a better life. I have a happy and healthy relationship and am content with the decisions I have made that have gotten me to where I am at in my life, always doing my best to improve my life, through work, school, etc. I have come to the conclusion that I will never have a relationship with these girls like most sisters have with each other. I will never be able to call them when I have good news, or bad news. I will never have them over to share a dinner or holidays with my family. I will never be close to them and while it breaks my heart, it is something I am going to have to accept. If it hasn't changed in the past 24 years, it won't change any time soon. I pray to God that they will one day see the damage they have done and realize how their behavior has really ruined a relationship they will never get back. Hopefully by then, it's not too late....
Sunday, May 8, 2011
It's Mother's Day
"She never quite leaves her children at home, even when she doesn't take them along."
~Margaret Culkin Banning
~Margaret Culkin Banning
Today is Mother's Day. ::insert deep, heavy sigh here::
I woke up a couple of hours ago to text messages from friends, and even J's family, wishing me a Happy Mother's Day. I was given a handmade pencil holder by C, and a single red rose from my dad. While I am so thankful for the wonderful well meaning wishes from people (because after all, I AM a mother), I am also reminded of the piece of motherhood I am missing out on.
Yesterday was Birthmother's Day. It was also C's First Communion. Since I got off of work at 2pm on Friday, I had been on the go, go, go of last minute preparation for his special day. Last minute shopping, cleaning, etc. had kept me busy till 3:30am Saturday morning. Wake up time was 6am, because we had to be at his school by 7:30 for pictures, and the ceremony was to start at 9am. We had reservations for breakfast at 10:30 for our group of 15. It was nice to be able to celebrate C's accomplishment with family and J by my side.
After breakfast, everyone came to our house and stayed... all day. It was a long day, being run on only 2.5 hours of sleep. It was well worth it, though, to see such a smile on C's face. It also was nice to give J and my family the opportunity to get to know one another. I felt bad because he was exhausted since he had just come off of a 48 hour shift, but I didn't want him to leave. I knew that the moment he left would be the moment I'd feel the weight of the underlying meaning of the day. Having him around provided me with the escape from the thoughts that suffocate me.
The moment J left, I wanted him to come back and stay by my side and not stop holding me. But, that only happens in fairy tales. I was disappointed in the fact that he knew that the day was Birthmother's Day (he has been reading this blog), and he knew how emotional I was about it, and not once did he mention it until I text him on his way home and told him how disappointed I was about it. Granted, I understand it may be hard to figure out what to say to someone. I don't know if I'd really wish someone a HAPPY Birthmother's Day because, honestly, its not something I'm entirely happy about. But still, I wish he would've just acknowledged it.
I wish anyone other than my fellow birthmothers would've acknowledged it. But I guess that's such a far fetched idea because its not a widely known day.
Today is a new day, and I didn't think it would phase me, as I had gotten through Birthmother's Day and today is Mother's Day. Today is the day to celebrate me being C's mama, and my mama, and every other mom in the world. But just because it's Mother's Day, doesn't mean I can stop thinking about the fact that in my heart, I am also Hope's mama.
It's the hardest thing to explain, even to someone who probably understands. I am a mom. I have woken up in the middle of the night when C has been sick or couldn't sleep or needed a drink of water. I have stood by his side at doctor's appointments for shots, or when he needed breathing treatments, and checkups. I love him with all of my heart, making every sacrifice I can to ensure he has the best life I could possibly give him. He is my everything, and the main motivating factor for me to never give up, even in the shadows of my darkest days. Sadly, though, I feel like I am not 100% the best mom ever, and I feel that its because a piece of my heart is somewhere else.
The missing piece of my heart belongs to the little girl who grew in my tummy for 9 months. The one who I would feel kicking inside of me, growing and growing till my tummy (and every other part of me) was huge. She's the little girl who I gave birth to and held in my arms and promised a better life for. The one who I told was blessed with two guardian angels, instead of one like everyone else. She's the angel who I placed in the hands of another woman so that she could call her "mom" from that day forward. She is the little girl I think about every day of my life for the past 5 1/2 years. The one who I daydream about meeting again one day. She is the ray of sunshine in my life who I have no guarantee of meeting in the future, but who I hope knows that I did what I did out of love.
I am hoping to get out all the tears before I continue on with my day, but I highly doubt it. I can't stop crying, and so badly want the day to be over with. But in the words of C yesterday, "Today is my day, and tomorrow is yours and grandma's day". I have to be strong for him, because it is my day to celebrate the past 8 years of holding the best job title God could have ever given me.
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