Terrorism

As mothers, all we wanna do is to cuddle with our babies.

When a mother is born, a great fear is born with her. We are afraid of losing our babies and we are also afraid that our babies might lose us way too soon, before they are ready, before they understand what death is.

Death is a big part of the world right now. Therefore, I find myself scared of sending them to school, to concerts, or even to the playground.

Still, this paralyzing fear cannot make me wonder if I should in fact have had children. Nothing could ever change my mind. I was born to be their mom. I knew I’d be afraid. I have always been afraid of everything.

I am a runner who ran away from a place she considered not to be safe for her children. Yet, as I listen to the benefit concert Ariana Grande did for the victims of the attack in Manchester I can’t help but think to myself “is there a safe place”?  If there is, can we call just go there?

I know all of us moms would love to be there. This world is not meant for a mother’s heart.

How does a mother who can’t protect her baby in her arms feel? How does a mother who can’t feed her children feel? How does a mother with a sick child feel?

What the fuck is wrong with this world? Actually, what the fuck is right?

People have “unfriend” me on facebook when I moved to Canada. Out of jealousy, maybe. Not the terrorists, the good people. The people who are supposed to “fight” evil.

This is something I’ve learned from my husband and my amazing best friend. I’ve learned to be tolerant, to give people a chance, to just fucking let them be happy – no matter how stupid their accomplishments might seem to you.

But these people can’t do that.

Unhappy people are unable to just let others be. They want everything to be more miserable than they are. That way, they won’t feel like the most miserable people on Earth.

Some people will just envy you, unfriend you from the stupid facebook. Some people will attack our babies and make every mother’s worst fears come to life.

“Terror”  is, in fact, a good word to describe it, no wonder they use it.

Right now, I am terrified of life and I don’t know where to run.

I’ve watched the interviews where they asked the children at the Manchester benefit concert “why did you come back?” and they said “because you can’t live in fear. you have to live your life”.

They are right. I have lived in fear for months longer than I can count. Every day I waste worrying about something that is not happening, just afraid of the bad stuff that could happen is a day I did not live.

Fear is a powerful thing.

I hope I can teach my children to not be afraid and to live their lives but for that to happen I guess I should learn how to do that myself.

I wish I knew where to start.

 

How am I doing?

Woudln’t you like to know how do I feel after moving all the way across the world with my husband and 2 babies, strugling to find a job for 7 months, finding an apartment in one week, moving AGAIN and going back to work after so long?

I know I would.

But I don’t have time process that. I do know I’m nervous and scared. I shiver when I get home and my stomach aches during the day. but I have no time to think about that. I just watch the rashes erupt as a reminder that I’m going through lots of changes all at the same time.

I just scratch them hard, as I try to familiarize with the new place, the new furniture and all the things around me that don’t make me feel at home at all.

It’s a perfect place and I would never consider going back, but I’m still far away from feeling safe.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night I wake up and it takes me a while to understand where I am. I keep thinking ” What place is this? Am I back in Brazil?”.

I tend to do that. Waking up very, very disoriented, I mean.

The other day I dreamt I had 3 babies. I opened my eyes, probably still sleeping, and found myself desperately looking around the bed, trying to find my 3rd baby. It must have taken me a few seconds to actually wake up properly and realize I had in fact only two babies and it had always been that way.

I don’t enjoy the way my mind works. Even when everything is fine, I still get panic attacks.

But I’m a mom now and there’s no one around to help us, so, I’ve lost my right to freak out. It’s dinner time, bath time, time to put them to bed, way pass my own bed time and time to go to work again. That’s all there is to it.

It’s lunch time now and I’ve chosen to write this instead. I was hoping I would begin to understand why I am still so nervous and afraid. I’m not sure it worked at all, but it’s nice to think about myself for a while.

You need time to process changes. Even the good ones. But I have no time to do that.

Please, don’t cry

photo 1

It’s 4.10am and she just stopped crying. She had been crying since a little past 3:00am.

I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I’ve tried giving her a bottle, but if I so much to turn her around, instead of holding her tight, the crying gets worse.

We’ve tried distracting her with all the things we use when she’s normally crying, but she wasn’t interested on anything.

We put Frozen on and I started singing. Whenever I stopped singing, she would start crying again. It’s like she couldn’t see us, only listen to me …and feel me holding her.

As I watched the tears going down her cheek I thought of her smile. She’s such a happy, loving baby. I love that smile and the little noise she makes when we find her hiding behind the curtains.

I’m pretty sure she’s hungry because she didn’t take her bottle after dinner like she always does, but she won’t take her bottle. I want to feed her, but I’m afraid she’ll start crying again, she has just calmed down.

It’s neither the first nor the second time this’s happened. It had been a while, though. She wakes us desperate and acts like she can’t see us. Like she’s still sleeping. When I was breastfeeding I’d put her on my chest and she’d calm down. But now, I simply don’t know what to do.

The doctor says it could be night terror.

I think he’s right. It is night time and this IS terrifying. I’ve brought her to the living room so she wouldn’t wake up her sister, who is,  magically, still sleep, even though I’m pretty sure the whole building is up from hearing her crying,

I wonder if she’ll continue to have these episodes when she’s older and tell me what this was all about.

She’s sobbing a little on her sleep, so, I’m staring at her. I cannot leave her alone right now, doesn’t matter how hard I need to pee.

Too much information?

I’m sorry about that

Good night…

Half asleep,

Shelly