Birthing

I remember telling myself in one of those very first nights following the assault, that I was going to do all that I could to protect the livelihood of my family, especially Luna.  No matter how difficult it may be I was going to get out of bed in the morning, I would eat food throughout the day, I would not drink alcohol or take medication and I would continue to excercise.  It was not easy, but I could not imagine destroying my family’s life due to my own self pity.  Luna didn’t deserve a weary mother, she deserved someone she could be proud of.  That is what drove me.  I knew that the healing would be hard, sort of how a woman knows that childbirth is hard, but to really go through it is something else.  It is a complete ebb and flow of emotions, a truly crazy experience of the human psyche and I am glad to have been there.

We stayed with my parents for several weeks.  Ten or so days following the attack, I was to appear in court for a Preliminary Hearing.  I have written about that experience in a previous post, but I just want you to understand the sheer fear that I felt in that court room.  It was a debilitating dread, I stood with the weakest of knees, my throat constricted with emotions, my head a concrete block.  I thought that I would never get through the day and thankfully it didn’t cross my mind that I would have to go through this again 9 months down the line.  I can honestly say that I have never felt this kind of fear, nor do I ever want to again.

I remember lying around a lot, trying the keep the panic attacks away.  I played with Luna a bit too.  During the day, my mom’s house was empty, everyone carrying on with their lives and their work.  I looked forward to the evening when the house was full again, I felt safe this way.  I tried hard not to let Luna see to much of my pain and anxiety, but she could feel it.  I hated that. 

I remember how difficult it was going to my sister’s house and to other friend’s houses.  I hated how they had homes with their own food and their own fires.  I envied them and it angered me that I had no home anymore.  I hated watching other friends and family carry on their daily routines while I struggled to get through the days.  Christmas was approaching and I hated that everyone else bought trees and trimmed them it in their homes with their families.  I felt like everyone was uneffected by what happened to us and I hated that.  Not that I wanted people to suffer in any way, but I wanted our old life back, the one where we went on as if nothing happened.

These resentful feelings lasted several weeks, until one day I was at the park with Brian and Luna.  I looked around at the other mothers and fathers with their children and felt that envy, and I took a moment and thought how do I know that these people haven’t come from something difficult or traumatic.  I don’t know anything about what others really go through, so how can I be truly envious?  It was the biggest thing that I have learned from my whole experience;  I can not judge based on what I see, and I would listen to others stories without judgement or comparison.