Apple blossoms

This is a letter I wrote to a new mother who was struggling with everything after  childbirth/postpartum stuff was not going as smoothly as she wanted.

_________________________________________________________________

Apple blossoms.

That's what I imagined pregnancy/birth would be like as a little girl.
Beautiful, delicate, fragrant, dainty, light, oh so wonderful.

My body wanted a baby in the worst way. I felt cheated and robbed as the
years pasted and I was denied a baby of my own.

34 years old and finally a man walks into my life that can reach all of me.
I've Advanced Materal Age (AMA) when I finally get to have a baby of my own.

first pregnancy was stressful and full of medical drama that threatened to
steal the joy of it. I loved every second though. I imagined delivery to be
a momentous event that would bond me forever with all the women of the
ages, a rite of passage, being initiated into a secret society...

They induced me 2 weeks early and forced my son to come out before he was
ready. He nearly died and spent 4 days in the NICC. The trauma of inducing
left my body a mess. The whole experience left me feeling cheated. Duped.
lied too. Where the hell was the apple blossoms?

I had a gorgeous son, and I was fighting sleep deprivation with a body that
need to heal and recover. I wanted to just lay in bed and stare at my son,
suck him in, memorize his face, shut out the world and stay there in that
moment forever.

but

there were dishes to do, hubby to tend to, things that had to be done at
work, life...life was still going on and cutting me no slack.

darn it

I wanted that dream. The image of the well rested mom with the sleeping
baby on her shoulder. Not the one I saw in the mirror: frazzled mom hair
not done, pukie baby on her shoulder.

I wanted the physical discomfort of labor/delivery to be gone. "Oh you
forget right away!" they tell new moms...I didn't. I felt like something
was wrong with me. What was I doing wrong that I was feeling this way?

Nothing. yet everyone was making me feel bad for not "bouncing back" and
going on like the energizer bunny. I wanted to shout: "LOOK, I WANTED  APPLE 
BLOSSUMS AND A WHOLE DAMN APPLE TREE FELL ON ME"

Take time. Take all the time you need to recover my dear. You are
recovering from pregnancy and major surgery, while raising a little one who
doesn't care how you feel she just wants a boob and she wants it now.

Don't feel bad for how you are feeling. Its okay to be feeling out of sync. ts okay.

Bon voyage

I stand here on this planet, 100% aware that it is moving on...and I am not.

That I am no longer a contributing member of the movement that give the population its steady hum.

Acutely aware that I have slipped out of sync with the world. No longer breeding stock. Age and illness encroaching on my ability to be a constructive member of society.

A cracked bottle discarded on the side of road. A vessel no longer worthy of maintaining …or keeping.

When I got lost in Disney Land as a seven year old, this is exactly how I felt. Small, stationary as this sea of faces buzzed around me, life moving at a rapid pace, going on without me.

Sometime around October of last year I became aware that ….my life and time here is winding down.  A sudden need to tie up loose ends, say goodbye, empty my bucket list.

Been under toxic levels of stress since April. Working slowly to remove absolutely EVERYTHING from my plate in an attempt to ease my discomfort.

Discomfort

That isn’t the right word. There doesn't exist a word to describe what I'm feeling.

Muscle biopsy in September showed all sorts of things. Been struggling to function and work and work I must.  The fear of not being able to work, when I am the main provider for the family while husband goes to school. Is a stressor I can’t take off my plate. Literally the stability of my family hangs on my rickety failing body.

This is a gut wrenching reality that kicks my heart on a daily basis.

I used to tell the farm kids “We are a chain…and as such we are only as strong as our weakest link.” I am not the weakest link…I AM NOT EVEN A LINK…I am rusty paperclip jerry-rigged to hold the chain together in place of the link.

Had a second opinion on my medical status, and the doctor had no idea either. I told him, “Good thing I have an usual name, cause there going to have to name this after me. Pajasytis.”

Both Rheumatologist agree I have rheumatoid arthritis and polymyositis, the PM is just not showing up in the muscle biopsy at this point, and the other stuff that is showing up is making them scratch their heads. Leave it to me to possibly have two rare diseases on top of the rheumatoid arthritis.

I made the decision to add plaquenel to my med regime in December. It can cause blindness. Which is why I’ve avoided it so far…but I was at the end of my ability to work with just prednisone. I had good relief of the pain the first two weeks and I was thinking, finally…some relief.

But today its like it has failed and I’m hurting. Which scares me

I am once again out of sync.

Winding down...becoming obsolete....off balance...off the track...engine sputters, coughs and stills in a last exhale of grey smoke.

I stand on the dock, my feet anchored.

I fight my muscles to raise my arm and shakily wave bon voyage.

I shall stand here as long as I can.

Watching for as long as I can.

...until you are out of sight, and I join the many silent, forgotten voices of the past.

Greasy hands (TRIGGER for suicidal thoughts discussion)

Living with chronic suicidal thoughts is a lot like riding an endless roller coaster.

Everyone around you is belted in with a five point restraint. There locked down tight and going no where.

While you are unbelted, forced to hang on to a wobbly bar with your bare hands. Your grip is all that stand between you and death.

and you hands are greasy.

It takes incredible strength to keep your cramping hands around that shaky bar, that is always threatening to loose its anchoring bolts.

Day after day, twisting turn after turn, peak...fall...rise...peak...fall....

do you have any idea how hard it is to keep your focus and grip on that damn bar when your own mind is screaming at you ….let go...?

what its like to get up each day knowing that it maybe a life and death struggle and you may not make it back to your bed?

To have medication fail you and have no other options, but to rely on your greasy hands to keep you here in this world....this world that is at every turn fighting you and trying to shake you off the roller coaster?

When you have days you just lay on the floor sobbing, praying the coaster will slid into the station and you can finally get off.

When you so exhausted all you wish for is someone to slid into the seat next to you, and hold you tight, so you can let go for just one damn second to adjust your grip and get a better hold, so you don't fall.

I hope none of you know this.

Which is why I'm telling you.

All you hear are the shrieks of the coaster riders who are enjoying a fleeting moment as they

peak...fall...rise...peak...fall.... enjoying the thrill of the moment.

They get to exit the coaster.

THEY GET TO EXIT THE COASTER.

some of us , we are trapped. There is no station. No end to the ride.

Well no end we would ever wish for.

Little ones...

Little ones...

It's grandma.

So sorry you never got to meet me. Life had other plans. Illness has stolen from you, and me our time together.

You can find me in my writings.

As the Polymyositis began stealing my functions from me, one of the first things it took was my arm strength. I held a baby for a few seconds and had to have the mother take it from me.

Even if I had lived to see you, I could never hold you.

The medication used to keep me functioning so I could earn the money to help support my family, robbed me of years off my life. It will one day take my eye sight too.

Even if I had lived to hold you, I could never see you.

You can find me in my drawings.

I would have loved to take you to the Redwoods and walk the Trestle Loop Trail with you.

The polymyositis crippled me before I could take my own kids and walk it.

You can find me in your mama/dad

When your questioning and feel like your lost and no one understands you and life is swallowing you up, you can find me in you.

Know, I would have loved to have known you. Loved to watch my children journey on and find what makes their hearts sing in this world.

I would have loved to rock you to sleep and sing to you.

You can find me in my songs.

I would have loved to have met you...played with you.

What's for dinner?
(tickles your collar bones)
Short ribs!
(tickles your ribs)
Spare ribs!
(tickles your belly)
CHICKEN POT PIE!


...Hold's you and rocks and rocks in the rocking chair, dreaming in the thinking sand...

...catches your first wind horse and introduces you...

...standing out in the pouring rain, teaching you to catch lightning, and call the thunder...

...laying with you and your parents on the mats counting meteors...


oh, little ones...

Grandma loves you.

By Fives (2020 edition)

A little early this year, but hells bells so much going on I had no trouble coming up with this block! Some years I've struggled, but not this one!


By Fives

I was born on the kitchen table

tumbled down sixteen stairs

attempted suicide

and placed second in a beauty pageant

all before I turned five.

I've eaten yellow snow on a dare

snorted grape soda up my nose

melted army men on the stove

learned the secret to catching lightning

got lost in Disney Land

watched three of my brothers die

and froze my tongue to a stop sign pole

all before I turned ten.

I danced naked as snow fell in the redwoods

felt dirt shoveled down upon me

as Ro____ buried me alive

wore the jewels of the Princess of Lippy Germany

held séances in the dark

Disfigured Ri___'s face with a pickaxe

eaten fire and grazed like a cow

and completed a novel

all before I turned fifteen.

I've felt the hand of a demented man cuff me across the face

flunked English 121

discovered Halloween candy I hid when I was seven

stared deep into the emerald green eyes of a panther

her warm breath on mine

and held the hands of countless people as they have died

all before I turned twenty

I've delivered puppies in the backseat

while parked at Shop n' Kart

journeyed into the dreamtime

got lost again in Disney Land

grew hair on my neck

crushed myself in my car

kisses a hog

and hung candy canes in the forest

all before I turned twenty-five

I've danced sacred dances

with eagle feathers in my hair and doe's skin on mine

began dreaming in Japanese

taught my son the secret to catching lightning

felt the bay mare rear and flip....

caught her in my lap

and fell in love with my friend John

all before I turned thirty

I've nursed piglets

watched three friends die of brain tumors

pieced my nipple

castled kingside and opened a door to a whole new world

accepted a proposal in the park

joined the Russell clan

all before I turned thirty-five

I've switched my mind off and hibernated

got lost in cyberspace

sold my childhood on EBay

gave birth to a son who almost died

got out of debt

and then right back in

all before I turned forty

I've been kissed by a sea lion

fought with my daughter

before she even left my uterus

swallowed radiation

got lost in Norrath

got lost in my own head again.

set sail on the seas of depression

all before I turned forty-five

Threw away my novel

Started a blog

Taught the internet the secret to catching lightning

got crushed again by a car

switched from LTC to ALF

won a game of chess against a Fide Master

Got put on the right medication for my head, and

learned to play Mahjong

all before I turned fifty

Watched my son almost die again,

joined a cult on YouTube

stole the light of a thousand stars,

and fed all of it to the darkness in my mind.
developed a rare disease,

avoided Covid 19.
Became one with the Floor

and watched my daughter become a serial killer,

all before I turned fifty-five.

(c) Jan 9, 1992 - original.