Talking - to myself, to mom, to this piece of paper.

I had a notebook that I used to keep notes in from Mom's doctors appointments while she was in treatment.  It served lots of purposes, but the most important one was so I didn't forget anything that WE wanted to ask the doctors.  It was easy to call or look-up drug information online, but not so easy to reach the doctors sometimes.  

That notebook sat unused for several weeks through October, and then right before November I picked it up again.  And for the last 8 months, I've used it as a journal of sorts, for things I would normally call, text, or email Mom about.  At first it was a little weird - but now it brings me peace.  I can throw out ideas, write my way through them, or just jot down some ideas for when I talk to her later.  So far there have been so many exciting things that I wish I could call to tell her - in addition to sad things, but that's not where I'm going with this.  I don't think I will ever share the pages of this journal or the ones that follow with anyone, that was never my goal.  If Kevin, or my kids, or my nosy little brother happen to read them - then so be it, but that's not the goal. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is, even if you're not a writer (hello - I'm not), writing down your feelings can be almost as good as talking about them.  Sometimes it is tough to talk to friends and family about a touchy situation.  I know my mom would always help steer me towards the right decision, she was my moral compass and the one that could calm me down even in the worst of circumstances.  There is one situation in particular that has left me heartbroken, sad, and unable to come to terms with my thoughts more times than I'd like to admit and it stems from jealousy.  Yes, I know how terrible that sounds, and I am afraid it is only going to sound worse, but I need to let these feelings go. So okay Internet, here it goes.

I am jealous that some of my best friends are having babies and that their moms are there to see it, experience it, enjoy it.  Part of me can't believe I said that out loud, and part of me is relieved.  I am infinitely happy for these ladies - and their amazing kids - and wonderful husbands - and happy families.  But my heart is absolute overwhelmed at the realization that I'll never have a photo of my children and both of their grandmothers.   I know that no one means it menacingly, but I've spent a lot of time in my journal venting about how no one understands and how they don't appreciate their moms enough.  I sure did my fair share of bitching when Mom stuck her nose in my business, but I would give anything to have her do that now.  And the jealousy only gets worse when the people who get to enjoy these moments with their Moms then bitch about how Mom is all up in their business.  Please, pretty please, appreciate your Mom while you've got her.  Mommy, I'm so sorry for the probable thousands of times I didn't appreciate you enough. 

There is a part two to this post, that I've rambled about on twitter a little.  It comes back to the often-discussed topic of why everyone needs to stop asking women "when are you going to have kids?"  I discussed that one way back in February (see here) and still pretty much feel the same way I did then.  When we're ready. When my heart is ready.  When I can talk about her without crying, maybe then.