So last weekend, my adventurous mother and I got some dirt to sift through for gold/cool stuff. So we're driving home in my Jeep after we have jumped the curb to back on the road. We park the car and out jumps a little baby grasshopper and it lands in my lap. I have a completely irrational, almost phobic fear of grasshoppers.
"Acridophobia" is an abnormal fear of grasshoppers and locusts.
Ha! I even have a name for it
So anyways, I do an epic Jess freakout and literally fall out of my Jeep straight onto my knees. I was really hurt, but understood what an awesome slapstick comedy show I had put on for my mother (who was laughing hysterically by the way) So my knees felt like they had been struck by lightening, and continued to for about a week.
It's in a touchy spot though. I cant bend my knee, or hit it on anything or else it's lightening and blood and gives me a POW to the brain. I check it out in the shower and sure enough, albeit tender and still not fully healed, it's getting there.
I will go ahead and walk the talk for mental health. I was diagnosed with PTSD which about gave me a whole new case of it. I dated a dude with PTSD from being in freaking IRAQ during a WAR. Ok, -that- warrants PTSD. The best thing that could happen to anybody, the thing so many couples cant do, fulfilling the epic genetic pining to spawn, my friends, does not warrant PTSD.
But then I cut myself a break. Lets look at the past 2 years (sit here at my pity party)
1. Stroke/migraine thing that no one has told me what it really was and subsequent doctors visits and medications, including 2x daily shots. Also cue crippling fear my body was going to defend itself against this little creature throwing off it's clotting factors and other things like...
2. My gallbladder going bad at 25 weeks and going undiagnosed until 12 weeks postpartum. Eff you too, gallbladder. That's one painful problem to have.
3. Being told by millions of resources that breastfeeding is the best thing you can do for your baby, even above loving them. Not telling you whom, but somebody in this room has a major issues with her breasts being touched, much less nursed upon, because they are so damn sensitive.
No my hooters aren't very happy to see you or sunlight
5. This one is weird. Being called at 38 weeks pregnant and being asked by some receptionist to schedule when my IUD would be placed when I had discussed no such thing with my doctor. And also, excuse my feminism here, but I was already having issues with a man taking away my fertility and me needing to work on his time table to get it back. I got the dang thing and it tried to escape my uterus. I thought that was pretty ambitious for how enormous my kid was, but more power to that inch long bastard. It's gone now, and I cannot believe the difference.
6. Non-essential organs? Who need those? Buh-bye appendix.
Hey, you don't need this either!
So basically, Im not really denying the whole trauma thing anymore. It's been kind of a shitstorm.
It's in a tender spot. Albeit tender and still not fully healed, it's getting there.
I'm finally getting to point where I'm allowing myself to say, "having a kid about killed me and I haven't enjoyed every second of it." It it took about two seconds to abolish my knees caps, and 2 weeks to get them to bend again, who knows how long this will take.
My first thought was, you dont have time for that! You have a child to raise!
Oh really?
I even wrote it down in his baby book as one of the things I hope to teach him
"To be forgiving and loving towards yourself, so you can be so to others"
Walk the talk, Mama.
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