Nothing is mine any more.
On my feet. Twelve hour days. An old man looks at me and says I should be at home. But there's work to do. I stride about in my purple top that coordinates with the staff uniforms. Its tiring...carrying around another three kilograms.
Time goes so slow. I am so tired. Then he is here. He slithers out of my body and I am stunned that he fitted IN THERE. Being stunned doesn't last long. Oh my lord, the pain. My mother looks worried, and exclaims to the midwife... please..give her something...
Soon.Soon.
So tired. And there is no turning back. Every few hours he's awake and hungry. I love him more than anything, but I am so so tired. And I feel so very intensely that I've gotten myself onto a ride that I cannot ever get off.
Days fill with worry. Care. Research. Questions. I need to get this right. There are no second chances.
He throws up the blood from the cracked nipple he's lacerated, but he's alright. He needs me and he tells me. Crying and crying. Up and down the hall. Pace pace pace. Sing along to the song on the TV at midnight. The Queen of my Heart.
My heart will never be the same.
What should he eat?
What should he drink?
What should he wear?
What should he play with?
What should I read to him?
As he grows he needs more. Days are spent finding out where we should go next.
Days of good food. Singing. Walks to kindy. Hearty dinner. A snuggle with warm milk to say goodnight. So so tired.
Five is looming. What to choose? Do we need to move? Where is best?
Reading. Looking. Talking. Reading. Writing. Growth.
There are two. And soon there are three. Bills to pay. No job means no money. No power. No food. And that won't do, so My Keepsakes and Such are sold to make sure it is warm this winter.
The job I love is too hard on everyone. So it is my job that has to go. The job I love more than any other and grieve for now, years later. But there's a new one that works better for Everyone. There is no money though. Because that is spent looking after Number Four.
Emails, interviews. Will they be the right one? What can I trust other than my heart?
Organise. Pay. Work. Collect. Soothe. Listen. Cook. Feed. Snuggle. Wash. Listen. Think.
Nights alone with everyone. Because dreams are coming true. Everything is perfect. For some of us, anyway. Its the price to pay.
Organise. Pay. Work. Collect, Soothe. Listen. Cook. Feed. Snuggle. Wash. Listen. Think.
Alone.
Years have passed and I have nothing on the outside world. The world has moved on.
My darlings are everything and I am nothing. My heart. My time. My mind. Twelve years means everything to my darlings. Nothing to the outside world.
But sorry about having to go out of your way to
Collect
him.
The sacrifices we make for our children.
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