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Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Guest post: my 200th post, written by Mrs. Chicken

Today's guest post is by the lovely Mrs. Chicken. Because of what this post about, my intro is below it. After you read it, you'll understand why.


I've spent the past month or so tied up in knots about my blog. Should I keep it going? Shut it down? Open it to my family?

It's so stupid, all this angst about a series of virtual pages, a life imagined in the ether. I am not Mrs. Chicken; I am a living, human being with facets more varied and strange than I could ever share by tapping out a series of words strung together. Do you know me? Yes and no. Do I know you?

No. And yes.

Issa and I crossed paths last summer, when I was startled—terrified, really—out of my ambivalence about my second pregnancy. My OB decided I needed an iron infusion, administered directly into my veins with an IV. Later, I found out that this risky procedure is attempted only in very dire situations, and only in the hospital.

Only in the hospital, because it can kill you if you have an allergic reaction.

I had a reaction; not quite full anaphlaxsis, but close. I never stopped breathing, but I did black out and wake up to two Epi pens surging through my system, body seized with painful contractions, as frantic nurses and my midwife struggled for several long, life-altering seconds to locate the heartbeat of my 37-week old baby.

The babyman. Babyman was planned, expected, wanted. But that didn't stop me from gnawing on the idea of him like a dog with a bone. It didn't stop me from endlessly questioning how I would manage to love him, with a heart already so full of adoration for the little girl who stole my soul lo these four and a half years ago.

But that day, I realized how much my heart wanted him. How important and real and deep my love for him was, even as he lay hidden inside my inhospitable womb.

Issa read my recounting of those 30 minutes, and suddenly, the two of us were bonded. I changed her life, she tells me. That experience of mine allowed the ice floes inside her own heart to break free, giving way to the warm mother-love she has for her own son.

Issa, you see, experienced loss.

Issa feared the love. She feared loving her sweet baby curled up inside her, lest he be taken from her. She's suffered heartbreak and loss and she was brittle.

But Issa was not broken. And neither was I. But sometimes it takes a shock to break you free from the fear, and we both got a shock that fateful July afternoon.

And so, Issa and I are bonded. When my son was born, I thought of Issa. It sounds impossible, disingenuous. But I did. And I knew that shortly thereafter, she would experience the overwhelming love that I felt as I pressed my lips to my son's warm, freshly minted face.

A few nights ago, Issa and I chatted online about the strange wonderfulness of this imaginary world we share, and as we signed off, I wondered if I would ever meet this young woman who has become my friend in the strangest, most unimaginable way possible.

I might not ever lay eyes on Issa. But she and I share something difficult, if not impossible to articulate.

I think of Issa, and of all the other mothers and fathers out there in this vast universe, and I think of how I am changed because of them. How I love more deeply, share more openly, weep more copiously, laugh more uproariously, because of a series of words strung together.

Because of stories.

And because of Issa, and Heather and Mike and Tanis and Kristen and Binky and all the rest too numerous to name, I will continue to share my own tales. Because you just don't know when your life will bump up against someone else's, and change everything.


I can't really remember when I found Mrs. Chickens site. I think there is a possibility I read her a bit before I quit blogging, but I'm not positive. Who knows? It doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of life. What I know is that when I first started reading her blog last summer, we became connected in a way that most people in the "real" world wouldn't understand. In a way that some of you, might not even understand. I don't think I can do it justice, so I'm going to ask you to read THIS if you'd like to know a bit more. It's a post that I wrote, the one where I realized how amazing this new friend of mine was. It's a bit of a harsh post, because it discusses the last time I lost a baby. But that day last July, where Mrs. Chicken almost lost her Babyman, was the day I realized I could and did love mine. That he'd already taken over my heart, I just didn't believe it yet. This woman, who I'd not met had changed my view on my life, my son's life. In one moment, she changed my life. Strange? Maybe. But it is true. I hadn't been blogging again for very long last summer. I was still in the, share silly stories, not reality with the blogging world. I hadn't found my voice yet. But that day, I choose to be real with all of you, or whomever of you were reading back then. I hadn't said yet, that I wasn't sure I could love Harrison. I hadn't told the story of my loss, or my breakdown after it. I hadn't yet decided that I really wanted to do this again, this crazy blogging life. That day, I knew I was in, fully in. That day, I realized that I wanted to be apart of this community again. In some ways, I wish I'd never taken a break. But my experience is different this time around, my friends are different, I am different.

This woman, this beautiful woman, who I may never meet, is someone who I am honored to call my friend. It's a strange community we have here. Having people guest post and write such brilliant heartfelt things has really shown me how important all of you are too me.
I am still finding my words again, but I am getting there. I will be back, I promise. You can't get rid of me now.

10 comments:

Mrs. Chicken said...

Love you. xoxoxo

Maura said...

You've both summed up really well why we do what we do here. :-)

debra said...

As I said on Twitter, beautiful post and beautiful story of friendship. You have reminded me why I stick around the blogosphere. :)

wheelsonthebus said...

i am glad you are both going to keep at it.

Rock and Roll Mama said...

I so get that connection, and I'm so grateful that you found it. I get that fear, too. After teh loss of my first baby at almost 8 months, I was slooooow to get used to the idea of my 2nd. I just didn't believe he would live till he was placed in my arms. Even then, I feared for so long. Now he's 12.:) You guys are awesome, xoxo!, L

Kerrie said...

I guess what you guys are talking about is why I keep blogging. Thank you for sharing your beautiful stories with us.

flutter said...

Love you, Mrs Chicken :)

Heather said...

xoxo to both of you!

wilardkiller said...

OH! you mommy bloggers are so important in world. My world revolves around the smell of your Air. You would think that maybe you would have the time to spend with your children and give them a chance to maybe develop their little brains. Do you put them in daycare and let someone else raise them? I bet you call it Pre School. Or even better I bet you let them watch television with the false belief that that television can educate.

The Ass Hat

p.s. Thanks for the name...it suits me well!

Capital Mom said...

That was beautiful.