Thursday, August 21, 2014

knowledge I didn't want to know


I wanted a baby my whole life.

A desire hardwired into my genes to insure the survival of the species. Countless 'illions of years of peer pressure, if you will.

As the years passed and I didn't get to have one of my own, my soul withered.

Then I would read reports of women killing their infants.

...and I would just cry.

and cry...

I would have loved your baby, I would have taken it. Why did you do that? How could you kill your baby?

I couldn't fathom the depths of how a mother could murder her own child.

Not even in my wildest deepest darkest moments, could I imagine how a mind could go there.

Flash forward to January 2002.

I am at long last holding the baby I have craved and wanted my whole life. A little neon boy who feels so right in my arms that have waited for him for 36 years.

Holding him, watching him nurse, my mind again chews on that old question. HOW could you do that? What part of  a woman's brain would every think of killing a little baby? They certainly had to be very ill. My head hurts, and my heart aches.

Flash forward to March 2002

I am working/commuting 10 hours 5 days a week,  I am breastfeeding, working with son in tow. He is still not sleeping at night, I get up 2+ times a night to feed him. I am sooo, so, soooo exhausted. I want sleep. My thyroid is un-medicated and running hyper. I feel like shit.

I hit the bed, and a few hours later, I hear my son crying. I drag my self to his room and feed him. Now it is painful to try to stay awake any longer. My mind is hurting and screaming to be turned off, and be allowed to sleep.

As soon as he is asleep,I burp him and lay him carefully in his cradle. I wait a second and watch him in the silky moonlight to make sure laying him down didn't wake him.

I turn and gratefully head to bed.

My head hits pillow and he starts crying again.

I get back up, check him, nope dry. I try to nurse him, maybe he was still hungry. Nope. He just wants to cry.

Okay, fine lets both cry. I rock and rock him, then walk him back and forth, crying with him. Finally at my physical limits I lay him in the cradle and stand there watching him cry, while I gently rock him.

And this single lone thought swims through my tired mind, this awful, awful thought.


I reel back from the cradle utterly horrified.

That was a place in my head I didn't need to ever know existed. how could you even think of harming your baby?!

I stand there in agony as I realize, I know something I didn't want to know. To gain extremely painful knowledge...that...I understand, now, with chilling clarity, how a mama could do that.

Frightened of myself, legs give out and I drop to the floor. I take deep breaths to stop myself from passing out.

The part of me that is my protector, growls as it floods my head and makes my hands numb, rendering them useless....just incase. What kind of monster did I just become?

I stay there until I feel in total control, then I get up.

Get my son out of the cradle, take him to the rocker and offer him my breast. He latches on and is asleep in quick order.

I tuck him in bed, and return to the rocker, my world shattered and forever changed.

Is this something that all women face?

Is this some thing that all mama's experience?

 Should I tell someone? will they take my baby? My souls twists in agony, over and over. My mind tries to rationalize it, make it seem not as heinous as it appears... Your just tired, your just exhausted, you need sleep and everything will fade like bad dream...but what if? what if I have those thoughts again?

Will I ever have those thoughts again?

I am frightened by my mind.

Will I ever have those thoughts again?

That answer is even more knowledge I didn't want to know.


  1. AND before everyone gets there knickers in a twist...I discussed this issue with my therapist YEARS before I even HAD children. I have his professional response noted in my journals. When I get back from California next week I will find it and post it. Its actually an interesting follow up.

  2. You don't owe me an explanation. Guilt much? Jeez.

    I do love how you hang those curve balls those. You have got some stones, lemme tell you.

    Why are you in CA?

    1. Ken I have this irrational fear that someone may actually BE reading my blog and they are going to put me in a rubber room. LOL.

      Look in your other folder for messages on face book, I sent you a message. Basically my dad was sold as a baby and we are visiting his birth family.

  3. That's that 'Other' folder, which I constantly forget about, it is from someone else, I won't say cause not sure if you want that stuff off of public or not. But only reason I bring it YOU have a Facebook page and if so...why are we not connected? :)

    1. I'm following your page (10+ stalking skills) - REB is me.

    2. I always wondered how the following shit worked.

      Just for that? I am switching Google accounts in mid-conversation.

      (I am actually just trying to figure out how to separate all of Bennett's shit on Google from Daddy's shit like on YouTube, I don't like that he can swipe on an iPad and stumble through apps that take him into stuff of mine, or into videos of himself seizing as a younger self.)

    3. He's never seen them? Why not?

      You will have to send me a friend request on FB, I don't have that option on your page.

    4. He HAS seen them. And they bug him. I just don't want him to see them, no need. Besides, I don't know what he can and cant understand and sometimes people leave shit comments before I can delete.

      And will do on the FB request.