When I was barely 16, our town flooded. The Flood of 1997 in Grand Forks, North Dakota was the second time in my life that something that happened to me caused me to go into survival mode.
It seems the experience of separating my pelvis during childbirth (officially, the condition is known as diastasis symphysis pubis) and then surgery to repair it is the fourth time this has happened.
Each time my mind has closed around things to protect me I haven’t realized it was doing so until after the fact, when I finally had a chance to come up for air.
Right now, I feel like the levy that was keeping all of the emotions of this experience at bay has officially broken. Things are spilling out of me, creeping up on me, completely freaking me out at the strangest times.
One example: Tonight, my husband, son and I went to a holiday party with several of my husband’s workmates. Several of the other guests offered congratulations to me with comment about how I’m “getting around so much better.”
But instead of filling my heart with joy as I expected, each comment made me more sad — somehow pulling me back into the reality of how much it hurt for so long. Did I even comprehend while it was happening how much it hurt?
I will make it my mission to find someone to talk more about this with this week. What’s happening to me know is painful in an entirely new and unexpected way.
On the bright side
Did you catch was I wrote? My husband, son and I went to a holiday party! I got dressed up and felt great about myself. I was feeling strong. I had somewhere to go and we were spending the evening having fun together.
It was a great end to a fun day. The Little Guy and I worked on holiday cards — his footprints as Christmas trees. They turned out well. He giggled at the paint on his foot. It was excellent.
Separated at Birth 