I’m working, sitting on the couch with the laptop on my thighs, my twenty one week pregnant belly in my lap, and my shirt riding up over said belly…pretty much because it doesn’t fit anymore and I still put it on.
You can’t see it, but I’m exposing myself to you there in the computer. Slowly.
But I’m writing about it anyway, because I’ve lived some of it.
So, a while back I wrote THIS. And in it, I said some dumb shit about dating a widower.
I felt sad for him, I dated him while it was clear he wasn’t done grieving, and I put myself second for his loss. His sad, sad loss. But you know what? It was sad, I hate that he lived through that, but it wasn’t my fault and no reason that a man who willingly put himself out there to treat a woman like she’s second place. That’s right, I recant my sympathy for my now husband.
He chose to date. He became a single man at that point. If he wasn’t single, and still beholden to grieving another woman, then he needed to stay away from other potential partners. When I wrote that post, I was trying really hard to handle some things I thought were normal. News flash, sleeping in a man’s bed he shared with his former wife, with her belongings in the dresser beside you, on her pillow, with a picture of her and him in their bedroom is not normal. It’s fucking awful to do to someone. You are effectively saying: I still love this person I still call my wife (present) and you are…well, you’re nice to have around so I’m not lonely and neither are my man parts. You aren’t ready to date and should stop it.
Women dating a man who is widowed, email me. I’ve got the best fucking support group to link you to, seriously. Without that forum, we wouldn’t be married today. I’d have left. I had to spell out shit that needed to stop as it popped up as a hurtful thing to me, because things that do not bother you in the beginning (picture in the bedroom) sure as hell will after a year. Things like mentioning things you and the late wife did together, your freaking sex life, pictures in the house, her personality, her clothes in the closet, her purse in a drawer, christmas ornaments, you name it, it needs to fucking GO before you bring someone new around.
Grieve forever, if a man wants to and is certainly his right as one with a huge loss, but for the love of god don’t date anyone. When you want to be a single man, then be one and put your new love first.
Am I happy we are together now? Absolutely. Would it have been better to start dating when he was done being a widower? YES.
I say all of this to help some other poor woman who is dating a man and feeling lonely in her relationship, that she’s second best, and that in fact all the books tell you to suck it up and be understanding to his loss. As if we don’t experience loss ourselves. Many find and read crappy articles by this woman first and we feel fucked. We feel that we have to take his less than stellar behavior regarding us, that somehow because of a loss we have to sacrifice. No, we don’t. I tell you now, you are supposed to be his number one. Anything less is shitty. You don’t deserve it.
What is bringing this up for me is painfully watching another blog. I don’t want to piss on their parade, so I’m not linking, but a popular blogger who lost his wife this summer (2009) has announced his marriage to a new woman in the beginning of March. Of this year. Half a year after his late wife’s death. Let’s just say, I SEE ISSUES coming up. I see his happiness at not being alone, but I think…seven months and marriage?
Holy shit, y’all.
He says he’s already grieved, but you don’t pre-grieve. He says that he and his late wife weren’t “husband and wife” for a long time, but then what were you? You weren’t only a nurse, dude. You were a husband. Is all the paperwork even sorted through yet? What happens on the first death anniversary that hasn’t even happened yet? His kids’ birthdays without the late wife? There are four kids who just lost their mother only to get a new stepmother in the house, how are they supposed to handle this? How is she supposed to handle it? I want his new wife to be happy, and I see her reading the “three hearts” shit online and thinking it’s her job to succumb to his needs.
I want you to know that’s crap. She deserves love, she deserves to be his number one, she deserves a full, real, present partner and husband. I want her to have that and it hurts me to know what’s coming up for her.
My son is sitting beside me working on his math. This is the stream coming out of his mouth:
Stupid.
I hate math.
Why don’t they just teach you how to use a calculator and be DONE
This is dumb.
Stupid and dumb.
I hate this.
I don’t even like math, why are we doing this.
I mean, it’s not like I do anything with it.
YOU don’t do anything with it.
I hate doing this.
Stupid.
Math is dumb.
God, Mom.
I hate it.
I still think it’s stupid.
I’ll always hate this.
Mmmhhhmmm, this is dumb.
I like this song, but I hate this math.
Sigh. Moan. Ughhh, I hate this.
Stupid math.
I’m going to burn this.
Burn the book.
It’s horrible.
GOD.
And then he finished it.
(He. finished. it. Try that, public school.)
Look, son. I know you don’t care about soil so much, but hey, you get to choose how much time you spend on it. Other kids are FORCED into fifty minutes of soil learnin’.
Yes, yes, okay Mom. I know….hey, the tundra is kinda cool.
THAT’S WHAT I’MA TALKING ABOUT.
Yesterday, we heard our baby’s heartbeat.
So freaking cool.
And we found a new ob practice that we love, love, LOVE. It’s two doctors, a nurse practitioner, and a certified nurse midwife who was a doula for seven years. We couldn’t be happier with their backgrounds, personalities, and their respect and trust in women.
So freaking cool. If you’re in St. Louis and want this kind of ob/gyn practice, just email me.
Okay, you guys, even though some days are super tough this homeschooling thing can be so much fun. I totally thought we’d kill each other but it’s been really nice to have Daniel around. I like him around so much that I feel bad Brett isn’t here more.
(Brett does not want to be here more.)
Today was one of those days I realized how nice it is to see him more. See, he wants his friends over after they get out of school, so guess who is extra super special on top of his schoolwork? While he is working hard on math (for once), he looks up at the television that is on super low volume and just kind of running because we forgot about it. I’m working, he’s working, no one is paying attention. Until this moment, anyway.
Daniel says, “MOM, CHANGE THE CHANNEL IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT LOOK AT IT.”
Uh, okay? So I do and ask that the devil that was about. He tells me that Andrew Zimmer show was on, the “Bizarre Foods” one and with my queasiness at wads and slabs of meat products, he didn’t want me to accidentally see anything there.
Awwwwww.
So hey, I’m posting, and changing up themes around here because lo, commenting seems stupid on the last theme. I’m so sorry.
Fucking hackers.
I’m still pregnant, and that’s pretty damn exciting. I’m also still homeschooling. And working. And well, the holidays. I owe you wedding posts and honeymoon posts but girlplease, we have to talk about some things. Specifically, the awesomeness of pregnancy when you are (this time around) not depressed and old.
When I had the boys, I was a spry teenager. I had energy, I felt very little discomfort for most of it, and while my previously skinny body after pregnancy morphed right into the sturdy German matron that my paternal family enjoys, I did bounce back pretty well. The difference this time is really big. I am starting out already a sturdy German matron and although I’m only fourteen weeks I look (according to the one-size body shape in the pregnancy books) like I’m around six months along. There’s no hiding this belly, but it’s okay by me. It means baby is growing, and that’s the plan.
My boobs are killing me. KILLING ME. Taking of my now way too-small bra at night hurts like a motherbitch. But my new, larger bras aren’t so much helping either at take-off time. All of the time, my nipples are stupid sensitive. In the shower, I say a good “damn” every so often when I accidentally hit them. Who knew I hit my nipples so much? Or for that matter, that Scott elbowed my boobs as often as he does. I’m always like, have you always been so angry at my boobs?
I’m sick, but getting better. Grocery stores are not okay, not at all. I’m truly irritated by my lack of keeping my gorge down when in the store because it’s one of the few chores I kind of LIKE doing. I feel terrible when the nice deli person asks if I want to sample the ham and holds out a piece and I turn green and leave. Oh, and I’m still exhausted to the point to falling asleep to every movie or tv show on after 5pm. I even just bought the original 1980s “Clash of the Titans” because I fucking love that movie and I couldn’t stay awake. (Side note: After watching this again, I am pretty sure this movie is why I am an art historian. Greek gods? Medusa? Pegasus? HELL YES GIMME MOARMOARMOAR!)
But here’s the difference in all of this. I notice the symptoms. My mom reports that my last two pregnancies were just like this one but I? I don’t know. I don’t remember much. I remember being a little sick, and a lot tired with Daniel (probably only because I was still in high school)…but I don’t remember much of my pregnancies, Brett’s especially. I remember their births, the moment of their births but it’s harder to remember their labors. I know this, at this time of my life, I was on autopilot. I stayed that way for years.
My sister commented to me how much HARDER pregnancy is when you are awake. She’s right. It’s hard, and exhausting, and I’m really tired of some parts of it. But you know, I’m really happy to be here for it this time.
Well, kind of. I mean, I lost formatting obviously but it also looks like I lost pictures in posts. That sucks and will make some postings make absolutely no sense. I have the former blog backed up, so I assume the pics live somewhere…but I don’t think I’ll be able/have the time to get them back in postings. Boo.
However, the blog is stable and not hacked and gah.
In other news, I’m almost 14 weeks pregnant, look like I’m 6 months along and still trying to be barfy. Sugared Harpy, a blog of FUN for everyone!!
I don’t want to jinx things here, but I think I may have things fixed. I deleted damn near everything and replaced, upgraded, and god knows what by following Wordpress’s guides to “So, you were hacked” threads. All customizations are deleted, all files replaced with fresh ones…gah. Irritating. I will say this, Wordpress is helpful. Bluehost is helpful. I didn’t lose my site and my posts and I’m thankful. Designy things to follow, but right now I’m just breathing a sigh of relief.
But a big fuck you to those who were (and still are trying) to pound my site into one big v__ia__gra advertisement. In the links, in the source code itself, by making new users, by taking over this tiny journal of mine and making it yours. It’s mine! MINE! It’s not even a speck in the world, but it’s been the biggest help to me and I don’t want to lose it.