Weather’s Untold Stories

Outside, the dark clouds issue threats of snow. The humidity and wind deceive me, as I stand shivering. The fog rolling off the hills tell stories of long nights, short days, and disappointments. The heater blasts against the inevitable cold.

I think of those without shelter. Without food. Without family.

I think of those who are suffering, in body or spirit.

I think of my pains right now.

My eyes tell no lies. I cannot hide the tears as they flow down my cheeks and onto my baby’s face. I turn away.

The Queen wants something. She, in her usual toddler manner, screams and points. I don’t know what she wants.  I can’t help her. The frustration wells inside my chest. I feel the overwhelming burden of motherhood whispering of my duties. My failures.

I want to hide. I want to find time for myself, but babies demand my attention. They need me.

The drone of the TV drains my tenuous patience. The constant chatter of the announcers. The washer and dryer announcing more loads of laundry. The babies screaming. Me, trying to keep my cool. It almost works. Almost.

Mr. B looks at me. He asks what is wrong. I can’t tell him. My stutter discourages me. My insufficient vocabulary mixed with muddled thoughts tie my tongue. I turn away. The tears come again.

The exhaustion racks my body. I have so much to do, but lack the energy to complete the tasks.

I am angry. Nursing hurts, still. I take ibuprofen and rely on my iron will to get me through each session. I don’t want advice telling me “If he is latched on correctly, it shouldn’t hurt.” He is, dang it. I want to quit, but I know, or hope, it will get better. Please, don’t let these cognitions be in vain. Please.

Breathe. Count to 30. Eat another cookie. Drink more water. Anything to distract from the pain.

My spirit is weighed down with troubles. My dear cousin is experiencing something most tragic. Her pregnancy will either result in a spontaneous abortion or the baby will die during birth. She is 17 weeks along. I cry for her pain. I cry for the injustice. I cry because I don’t know how to comfort her.

The news tells of a medical student, with an 8-month old daughter, stuck in a cave. He has died, but they cannot retrieve his body. His wife is a widow, with who knows how much debt, and now must learn how to navigate single motherhood.

Thanksgiving is over. I have so much to be grateful for, but my mind cannot focus on those right now. I am hurting. I am sad. I am angry. Most of all, I am tired.

The weather matches my melancholy mood. My eyes are clouds, threatening snow showers. My Spirit is the fog, with the disappointments. My heart mimics the long, cold, nights and the short, dreary, days. I am searching for the light.

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13 Comments

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13 responses to “Weather’s Untold Stories

  1. Heather of the EO

    I'm sorry, lady. You are in SUCH a difficult season right now, and then such horrible news. Peace to you,Heather

  2. Aidan Donnelley Rowley

    I am sorry that things are stormy right now. I hope it brings you some solace to hear that even in the throes of an emotional maelstrom, you write beautifully. This bad weather will pass. It always does. But I'm sorry you are going through this all.

  3. TKW

    How tragic for your cousin; a neighbor of mine had the same situation a month ago. I heard the news and was just breathless with horror. I cannot imagine.I also cried at the story of the man trapped in the cave. Hideous way to die, and hideous for his wife. I cannot imagine…again.I can imagine, however, the pain and frustration your are going through with breast feeding. I went through something similar. It comes easily for some. For others, it's a constant source of helpless angst. xoxo

  4. BigLittleWolf

    You are so hard on yourself. You have a baby, another baby growing inside you, you're exhausted, breastfeeding hurts, you're dealing with terrible news, and hormonally, you're vulnerable to being more emotional.You're writing is gorgeous. Take some steps back, outside your own head, for a few minutes. Try to see what we see. A lovely, giving, talented, tired woman, mothering and nurturing and being too hard on herself. If the breastfeeding hurts – still – why are you still doing it? Are you making you feel like you must? Or the "medical establishment" or some other set of "shoulds?"You have options. Breastfeeding is not mandatory. It's your body. You count in this, too. I tried breastfeeding with both my children. Horrible, painful, and I felt like something was wrong with me that it just wasn't going like in the movies or as easily as everyone else I knew. I stopped. What a difference that made. Instead of resenting trying to feed my hungry screaming baby, I was able to hold him close, NOT be in pain, and enjoy his nourishing himself.Same situation with my second son, but that time around I didn't let everyone else insist I force weeks of a terrible situation on myself or the baby. Just thoughts. You have more choices than you see right now.

  5. Eowyn

    I wish I could reach in to my computer and through to yours and wipe away all the pain. Those days are so hard, when life is hard and the world weighs down.I'll pray that you can find a way to find some peace today. Have you got your favorite cd on?

  6. Kristen

    Amber, I am so, so sorry to hear about the troubles you are experiencing – emotional, physical, interpersonal. It is obvious from your writing that you have an enormous and generous spirit and right now it is overflowing with compassion for others, even while your own body and heart are hurting. I can relate so well to some of what you are feeling, especially given the rich way in which you recount the details – my older son was 20 months old when my second was born and I constantly felt torn in two those first weeks.And, about the breastfeeding: why do the books tell us that it doesn't hurt "if you're latched correctly"? It did hurt me – absolutely. I kept doing it because of all of the societal pressure that tells us that it's the only choice. It's not, of course. As BLW said, you matter too. And you are a good mother, a very good one – however your little one gets his food.Thank you for sharing your story. I hope that by airing your worries here you get some of the peace and support you deserve.

  7. Ambrosia

    Before I address each comment individually, I want to express my sincere appreciation and gratitude to each of you for taking the time to read and comment. This morning was one of those mornings. I felt so down. As soon as I wrote, I felt much better. Putting words to my feelings is my band-aid. Each of your comments are the Neosporin applied to help the wound heal faster. Thank you!Heather: Thank you for stopping by! The words on your blog always appeal to me. I have found peace.Aidan: Thank you! Sometimes metaphors and similes help me find the root of my pain. You have inspired me greatly through your words!TKW: The tragedies we are surrounded by, whether personal or through the news, can be hard to hear. I think, though, we can help in our small corners through our prayers. At least God knows each of these people and what they need. I find solace in that.Wolf: Thank you. The whole breastfeeding issue is something I am struggling with. Hearing about your experience, though, has greatly alleviated the sense of guilt I have felt. You are right. I do have options. Thank you, again, for reminding me.Eowyn: Your virtual hug is more than enough. I do not have my favorite cd on, but I think I will try that! Thanks!Kristen: Writing here has provided me with the solace I sought. Your words have reminded me to look at what I need. My little Manly will be happy however he is fed.

  8. Jen

    Oh I'm so sorry for you. I've been there with you in breastfeeding pain. I hope it gets better for you. (My baby just started biting again. What IS IT with these kids?) It is so easy to focus on the hardship and sadness around us. And while it's important to acknowledge it and do what we can to help, please remember to keep the focus on you and your family and all that you have. (I know, you do!)

  9. Kimberly

    This struck such a chord with me…and my heart just hurt thinking of how yours was hurting when you wrote it. I'm so glad that putting words to your pain helped ease it – my own mind and heart work much the same way. Reading your words was like being transported back in time to when I had my second baby. I am so fearful this time of going back to that dark place and not being able to fight my way out. I found my light though and I'm struggling so hard to hold onto it TIGHTLY. I had a bad day on Friday and nearly lost it…it was so scary.Know that you have a friend who has been where you are – any time you need to vent I'm here okay?

  10. Charlotte

    That post was beautifully written. Brought back memories vivid of having 2 little ones. Brought back memories of my last stormy mood (like last week). I always thought of breast feeding primarily as a bonding tool and when it is not, then there is no reason to continue. (I tend to "yadah-yadah" over the health reasons people give about it).

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