Monday, December 21, 1998

Moving Mourning

Okay this is for that friend, you know who you are that needed my thoughts on moving while pregnant. (It gets better I promise!)

Journal 1998

I just want to go home

Home where someone loves me and will watch me cry without thinking or judging and just hug me and who will explain hormones to my kids.

I just want to go home where there is no insulting others with my odd religious practices, but plenty of my insulting them with theirs.

It’s me, hardhearted Terina, crying unabated for the third time in as many days. Hormones, what are they?

I just want to go home, where someone loves me and my new baby who will see my house and not think it’s always this way, or know that it always is and won't care.

I just want to go home, home where someone will admire my baby and hold him and hug him and not feel imposed upon.

Cause that’s supposed to be a mom’s job and I have to do it cause Mom can’t or is too tired. I just want someone else to love my baby.

I just want to go home where life could be the pits and it had been that way before and I knew from experience that It would get better.

I just want to go home where I’m normal, ordinary.

I just want to go home to be told that the lump under arm and my vaginal tears, my hormones, my tears, my fears, my religion, my appearance, my kids, my house, my life is humdrum, loved and normal.

Will anything ever again be normal?

A Worrisome Thump

           What is that noise?             I’m jarred awake by a noise in the dark. Down the hallway—a bump or a thump. My action thriller b...