Staying with fear

So my nerves are getting the best of me. I expressed my labor fears yesterday. But the main fear I have is something I've struggled with for years. If I had to pinpoint when it started it was in 7th grade. My sister's best friend, Robin, was killed in an awful car accident. Because Robin had been someone that had become part of my little family--the guidance counselor took me to the office and told me. I fainted. My friend Erica was also in the office with me. Robin was also close with her family. It was a drunk driving accident. She was 18. She was not drunk, but got into a car with people that were. My mother, wanting to making a teachable moment, took me to see the car. She wanted to show me what can happen if you are drinking and driving. The car didn't look like a car. It had a HUGE impact on me. Unfortunately, a lot about the accident was shared with me. I won't tell you the details, but they were gruesome and awful.

The first "incident" came later in the year. My sister was in college and I knew she was on her way home. The KPL (gas man) came to our house...for some reason having his lights flashing. I saw the truck in the drive way and was certain that my sister was gone. I ran, screaming up to my mom's room and all I could say was, "Wendy...Wendy...." I was crying. My mom looked out the window and told me who it was. I was a wreck.

For years afterward, St. John had teenage death after teenage death--mostly car related. I knew these kids. I went to school with them. It just seemed like one shock after another. Erica's brother was in an accident in college--pretty awful, but he survived. When I went to the hospital, his father explained what it took to put him back together. I fainted. (I do that...I just shut down.)

Whenever Jason is out...I go through scenarios...you can imagine. Last year when Bill and Lynn died in a car accident--it just punctuated my fears. The policeman came to my door. I knew it was Jason. He'd just left hours before. When they told me it was Bill...it didn't register. I had just talked to them both that afternoon. They took me to see Melissa, his wife...who was in tears on the couch. She looked up at me with a confused look and said, "What is going on?" (She continued to repeat that throughout the night.) Yes, I'd had friends die...but I'd never gone through sitting with the family before. I sat with them for days. Watching each person come in...one after another, looking like squeezed out sponges. I'd only known Bill, Melissa and Lynn. They'd all just been at my house the weekend before. I was in shock. Then, seeing all that were affected was another shock. I didn't know what my place was...but I just kept coming and sitting in the living room each night. Out of the grief of this family, came such kindness. All who talked to me made me feel that it was perfectly natural that I was there. (Jason and I were the most recent friends.) But it was the initial night that I always go back to. It's the doorbell. It rang twice. The cop flooding my foyer with his flashlight. My hands shaking so badly, I could barely open the door. I am still awakened by a "doorbell." It isn't real...but I hear it. The guy that hit them was under the influence of drugs. (Again, the lesson is punctuated.) Melissa's house is visible from my kitchen. Each day I think of her, the remaining sister and their mom. I thought about it when I was looking at all of J's things in the bathroom today. "I wonder when she took out his things...has she taken them out??" The things that family has had to endure is too much for me to comprehend. (The accident happened Oct. 6th of last year...we are coming up on a year and the driver still has not been charged with a damn thing.)

I am plagued with worry and fears every time Jason is out of this house. Whenever my family is driving anywhere. It's almost as if I sit and wait for something awful to happen. It's no way to live. I contacted my therapist this week. Jason says I need to talk it through.

You've been my therapist today--I need to figure this out.

Scared.

I haven't blogged because I've either been sleeping or am so tired that nothing comes to mind. Last night I finally voiced to Jason that I'm definitely more nervous for this labor than I was for the first. Now I know what is coming. I know that it will hurt...that I will be throwing up...that I will have moments where I'm not sure I can do it...that I will be exhausted. The end result is great. However, I am scared. I have irrational fears dealing with my anxiety...that I will somehow cause an issue because I am so nervous. I would LOVE to have a sedative...but I don't think they allow that. Is this normal? I am ready for her to be born. I'm ready for both of us to be done with it and both of us healthy. I'm ready to meet her and for things to start. I just hope my nervousness doesn't mess the whole thing up. I seemed so strong last time. Maybe ignorance was bliss.

If you don't like it, just don't say anything.

The chill has set in. It is comforting. Hot chocolate evenings are nice. And...the fireplace will come into use again.

We have our name...we are happy with it and few others. Some love it, most don't say anything--meaning they don't. Oh well. She is named after an author. I like that. Her middle name is not from the family either, but comes from something Jason and I love--a season, actually. No one reads this, really...it's Harper Autumn. Shhh...don't say anything. :) Harper is after Harper Lee. (To Kill A Mockingbird) I realize that some have no idea who that is--well, I didn't know that until recently. Coming from a very literary family, I took for granted that everyone would automatically know who she was. Autumn is from the season. It's J and my favorite time of year. We live in an area where it is very celebrated. Our yard is full of trees...it's a season of change and holidays. We love it.  Z loves Harper's name and uses it all of the time in referring to her sister. I suppose there is a 1% chance that the name could change before she's here...I hope not.

Our guests start arriving in a few weeks. I'm thrilled, actually. I think a lot of people get stressed out by visitors. Not me. I love that people feel at home here and like to visit. I love having people around. Honestly, that was one of the reasons why I wanted to have another baby. This house just needs more people, ideas, conversation, love--I look forward to lots of conversations with my daughters. Z needs someone she can talk to who aren't her parents and who knows where she is coming from. She needs a confident. She needs a giggle partner and someone to keep her secrets. I realize that some sisters are not good at this--I am living in my dream world of perfection for as long as I can.

all over

The week is slow. The days are slow. My belly is big. The weather is getting much cooler. The election race is getting dirtier--and that is getting old. It's going to be a close one. I see both sides, I do. I can see why people would vote for Romney...and Obama. (I still want Obama) But I understand the opposing viewpoint much more at this age than I would have before. I'd like to think I'm trying to be more open minded and considerate of peoples' feelings. There are a few issues in which I am not budging, but there are others in which I've really changed my views. (Is that vague enough?)

On a lighter note, I watched The Voice for the first time last night. I enjoyed it. I am boycotting American Idol and will not watch it. I'll be tuning into The Voice and The X Factor. I have no use for Mariah Carey or Nicki Minaj (I had to look up how to spell her name). I'm a singing show person...not so much on dancing for some reason. I've always wanted the ability to really belt it out--but I don't have it. That's probably the one talent I wish I had--to really be able to sing. I think the voice is so powerful. I've always been in awe of my friends that can sing. And I dig a guy that can--Jason sings around the house to joke around, but I can tell if he really tried, he'd sound pretty good. (Deep down he really wants to be a singer, too.)

I just have random thoughts and facts today. My internal dialogue is a little scattered. I go from lying in bed doubting my mothering capabilities ("I can't do this, I'm not good at this...I'm going to screw this up") to feeling guilty for not liking pregnancy, to being frightened of losing loved ones, to being in awe of how good my life is... (I know, bipolar, right?) I'm chalking it up to hormones and leaving the bipolar thing in the past.

snap out of it. i know...

I'm not having my best day, I'm afraid. My lack of sleep last night made for a difficult day. I'm down. I'm annoying myself. I'm frustrated with being tired and cranky. I'm mad that I can't pull myself out of it. I'm very aware of how good life is...and yet today, I can't pull myself out of this funk.

We all have days like this, but I hate them. I spent too long feeling like this in a past life and I have no patience with it now.

Damn.

Please let tomorrow be better.

dark and stormy

We just had a quick storm. It was dark for a time. It thundered. I lit candles. It poured...and now it's passing. I wish it would've lasted all day. I'm in a stormy kind of mood. Not that I'm not in a good mood...but a mellow day would be nice. Also, it's not cool enough. It's 70. I want 50s. I want to be able to open the windows in the house and air it out.

I want a warm bath with bubbles. I want a feeling of peace and complete relaxation. I want all of my chores to be done. I want everyone to be calm and quiet. I want to have a window above the tub that looks over a huge body of water.

I want there to be feeling of complete understanding with those in my life. A feeling of contentment.

I want all of my loved ones to be alive. I want all of my friends to be alive.

Maybe this will be waiting for me after I'm gone. I hope that they've all found peace. The ones left here are still struggling. Damn it.

I really want a massage.