OK, we know my Mother isn’t really the best at showing her motherly side. I’m sure you all remember the time I had a hysteroscopy and she didn’t even call to ask how it went. Then there was the time that she chose work over my July 4th party. You know and bunches of other examples in between (like moving me out of a house in order to move my sister into it). So, we get the point, my mother, not one for the whole motherliness. If you got shit going on and you need a mommy, look elsewhere.
The fact that this is known information does not make it hurt less when you’re at the end of a high risk pregnancy, put on restricted activity and told your baby will be induced and soon and your mother shows as much concern as if you’d burnt dinner. In this circumstance (and I believe I can speak from experience here), you want your mother to call or come over and say “what can I do to help get things ready for this baby?” or “what can I do for you?” or I don’t know, just listen to what you have to say, when you have a lot to say, because HOLY FUCKING SHIT AM SCARED. That is what you’d like from your mother.
Here’s what I got:
Wednesday Night (post L&D)
Mom (in a hurry the fuck up tone): Hey sis, I’m on a conference call, what’s going on?
Me: Hey Mom, I’m home. He’s not inducing me tonight. He put me off work and on restricted activity and
Mom (interrupting me): OK, well, I didn’t click over earlier because someone else was talking, but I need to get back to my call, I’ll call you later to get the details, glad everything sounds OK for now.
Me (clearly pissed): Yeah, whatever
I wish that was one of my witty paraphrase jobs. It is not. It is pretty much as exact as I can remember. That conversation happened at 7:30pm on Wednesday. I have not heard from her since. Not e-mail, not a phone call, not jack fucking snap.
I sent an e-mail update to my family. I have heard from everyone except my mom. Even my uncle, with whom I have a strained relationship went out of his way to say if I just needed someone to change the channel on the tv he’d come over here. My mother couldn’t be bothered to even acknowledge the e-mail.
Yet, she expects to be notified when I’m headed to the hospital. She expects to be in the room (on her terms, I’m sure) when Baby G is born. The hell?!?!?!?
And the thing is, I kind of want her there. No, I don’t. I want my idea of my mother there, and she doesn’t fit that idea in reality. She is looking for an experience that my sister didn’t give her so she can prove it was my sister that was wrong for snapping at her while giving birth to the C’s. She is looking for a way to vindicate herself. I know this. But part of me still wants to believe that she wants to be there for me.
Speaking of… G’s family is already making plans to post up in the hospital waiting area while I labor. They are asking when we’ll be there and just assuming that it’s OK. G doesn’t want to tell them that it’s not… but, IT’S NOT.
Seriously, I ought to just throw in the towel now. Sure, let’s make it a free for all. Please stress out my newborn premie son before I’ve even had the chance to hold him properly. Anyone who wants to be in the room and see my snatch, have it ’cause I’m gonna get drugged to the fucking gills. New birth plan: FUCK IT.
(OK, I may be exaggerating and blowing things up, but I’m going to play the ENTITLED card.)
More things I want to whine about:
– I took back a bunch of newborn clothes because the doctor geeked me up about having a 10 pound baby. Now, he’s going to be 4 weeks early.
– The diaper chick does not have my diapers in stock, yet.
– I still have a bunch of work shit to catch up on (from home) and I have to the office to get important personal things (like my purse) 😦
– Speaking of, one of my co-workers put me on front regarding my return plans during a meeting today that I wasn’t even planning to call in for.
– I’m supposed to be at home relaxing keeping my BP down and I feel more stressed than ever.