Monday, December 04, 2006

Humorous... and not so humorous

It seems that last night Emma developed a sense of humor, or at least has inherited her parents sense of humor. She was sitting on her dads lap, pooted, then proceded to look up at him and laugh.

John immediately pointed at me and said, "Hmmm, I wonder where she learned that from?"

Huh, wha? Just because they spend all day with me doesn't mean that all of their bad habits come from me... just the funny ones.

Did I forget to mention that Emma has disovered cat food? Mmmmm, meaty goodness in a pellet!

Other than that, I haven't been sleeping very well. We are trying to go visit Ben, my brother, hopefully in April. I think the idea that I might run into the egg donor (my mother) is really bothering me, so much so that I have been having odd dreams about her lately. I have been a mess for about a week, something hurts somewhere all day or everything hurts for part of the day. I think my anxiety is manifesting itself in key locations in my body, starting from about my forehead to about mid-calf.

Evidently my illness has crossed from physical to mental because I have actually thought about seeing her. I know my dear sweet husband is thinking the same because when I mentioned this, he said nothing but shook his head no, almost violently.

I guess part of me, despite all the anger and hurt, still just wants a mother who loves me. At this point I'd be better off trying to find an adoptive mother. Hey, I'm only 36. Why not. I know, I know, it's probably never going to happen, and it makes me sad. Well, I mean when it's not making me angry. My childhood sucked so badly there is literally a vaccuum, an endless void in my heart where any good feeling for my mother lived.

The weird thing is that every time I have this thought- to call the *egg donor*, so does Ben and vice versa. we talk to each other and say that we have both come to the same conclusion, which is "why bother?". Either we would eventually be opening the door to more abuse and heart ache, and the good times would be short lived, or she would slam the door in our face.

Ben and I are so much alike sometimes its scary. We are able to talk about the past, it's very painful but therapeutic. we are both discovering that neither of us had it worse than the other, and that there are things that each of us didn't know. Horrible things. When I tell John, he just sits there in shock. It's hard for John to understand it all- especially the part where we tell him that we still want her to love us ,though he tries really hard. What normal person could understand?

I miss him a lot. If I can't go Maryland this April, I will probably be depressed. Heck, I am getting teary just thinking about it. He is pretty much all I care to call family anymore.

Pooh, so much for one positive thing a day. I set my sights too far, too high. Well here it goes... The bright points in the darkness for me are my family. I don't know who or where I'd be with out my husband, my first and only true love. My kindred spirit and best friend. My girls... for so long I thought that they would never come, but here they are! Two radiant, sweet and precious blossoms. Stinky at times, yes, but sweet just the same. And my brother, my other kindred spirit. We laugh at the dumbest crap.

Well, with that said, and so eloquently might I add... my life isn't so bad after all.

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