Disorganized Thinking

Well, we never did hear back from Cricket’s parents, and we stayed here. I wish there was something more interesting to say about it, but we just stayed in town and I missed the kid in a way I hadn’t expected to. I’m also a bit frustrated that Nora, as the nongrieving partner, couldn’t drop us a quick email saying either “Come” or “Don’t bother,” but I suppose that’s an issue for another day. I am here by myself, not pregnant, not a mother in any meaningful way, missing the kid who isn’t mine.

I’m writing this late Sunday night, I’ve had a couple of drinks with my husband (we play this drinking game with Mario Kart that is super fun), and he has fallen asleep.  I am essentially alone at this moment, doubting that I’ll ever become a mother, and assuming that I deserve it. This is perhaps oversharing, but I mean it.

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4 thoughts on “Disorganized Thinking

  1. Oh, Susie, I hate that Ruth and Nora didn’t just give you a “yes” or “no.” You deserve more consideration than that.

    I’m pretty sure my son’s first mom also doesn’t consider herself his mother in any meaningful way and it just kills me. To me, he IS her kid and she IS his mother in *such* a meaningful way — but a way that, sadly, is not recognized by many. I want her to know how important she is but I don’t really know how to help her believe that. I’m sorry that you feel that way, too. From what I know of you here, you are a thoughful and introspective person who has so much to offer Cricket and futurekid. I hope Monday is a better day for you.

  2. I know I’m not in your position adoptionwise, but I get that same feeling about not deserving to be a mother (and that I never will!) too. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see Cricket, but I guess maybe the bright side of that is that now you know how you feel when you don’t get to see him — not ambivalent but grieving or however you’d classify it. I’m sorry if that sounds like a harsh way to look at it, but that’s how I’ve had to deal with our unpleasant bits, seeing what I can learn about myself and the process. It sounds to me like maybe you’re in a similar place.

    I hope today things feel better. I’m sorry they didn’t before. Perhaps you can at least share your Mario Kart drinking game rules! We might be able to use them for our periodic Wii wars.

    • No, you’re right–it was in a way a good feeling, to be grieving and know that I miss the kid and am in that sense a normal person.

      The Mario Kart drinking game rules are excellent, and we’ve already exported them to friends and family. The difference between these and most other sets is that these tend to keep things fairly even in the long run. At the end of a race, whoever is ahead takes a shot (or a sip, in this house, because we are lightweights), and whoever won that race takes a shot–so if you’re ahead overall but lose the race, you and the winner each take one, if you win the race and are ahead on points, you take two, and if you lose and are losing overall, you don’t drink. In the case of a points tie, the person who was previously ahead on points takes the points drink. This looks impossible to follow, so I will recap:

      Win the race = one drink
      Being ahead on points at the end of a race = one drink

  3. (((((hugs))))

    I don’t even know what else to say.

    I’m sitting in limbo myself right now wondering if I’ve got a visit this coming Sunday.

    But I will tell you this: You ARE a Mother and it IS in a meaningful way.

    It took me three years to even begin to believe that, and I still need reminding myself, but I promise you it’s true.

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