Let's start with Sam's birth. I remember how I wound up in the hospital. I was standing on my driveway with Savannah and my water broke everywhere ... or so I thought. When we got to the hospital the nurse insisted I peed myself, to this day I beg to differ. That was evening. Sam was born naturally (no drugs) just after one a.m. March 24th. I remember every detail. Most moms do. Ask an eighty year old great grandmother and she'll tell you her birth story like it was yesterday. I remember holding Sam and it was love at first sight ... times a million. I couldn't sleep the rest of the night. I just stared at him. Those are the sweet memories. Unfortunately, they aren't the only ones. Sam is now in Colorado for his birthday and I'm here, hundreds of miles away. I can't decorate for him (I usually blow up balloons and make signs for them to wake up to.) I can't hug him. But I have the memories of his pregnancy to remind me how I arrived at this point. Because for all the good memories I also have the bad. My pregnancy wasn't filled with stories of two parents lovingly anticipating their new son. That joy was met with betrayal, immaturity and heartache. I remember the birth of my sweet Sam with a bittersweet taste in my mouth. I can only change that by sorting out all the garbage of the past instead of covering it up with BS. I'm done. I'm divorced from Herschal. There is no more need to pretend like our life was rainbows all the time. It wasn't. Sometimes not even close and my pregnancy with Sam was one of those times.
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Um, Bravery, welcome to the party...I was starting to think it was a little too lonely in this land of truth and self-reflection. So glad you had the cohones to post this-I can't wait for the next chapter!
ReplyDeleteYou are such a strong person Lisa. Love to hear more. :)
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