Holes

You know when people really upset you and you struggle between feeling really, really angry at them and trying to convince yourself that they really don't matter.  I hate being there.  I think it would be easier to dig a 6 ft hole in the middle of winter.  But I usually go ahead and dig.  I dig through the angry part even when the soil is cold and rock hard and sometimes tears are involved but I usually end up at the other side of the earth in Go- Fuck-Yourself-Land where I continue to happily reside as commander and chief of my own life.

But while you're digging away trying to get to your happy place, let's admit it, it's awful.  You put the shovel in and pull out a heavy load of, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" and then the next one is an equally hard, "Who the hell cares who they are? They don't matter to my life."  Then you hit a large rock that says, "They don't get me, they don't care to get me, they are just so freaking miserable and judgmental and they just want to put their know-nothing foot in the door of my life and bring me down."  That rock takes a bit of work to get out.  You have to put the shovel in at different angles until you find the right one, then you might have to stand on the shovel to get the right leverage and strength.  It's hard labor, it's a real pain in the ass... and there you are digging a very deep hole just to get back to where you were... confident, happy, yourself.

You wouldn't have to be digging if people would just leave you alone, but that becomes harder with Facebook and a blog. I kind of put myself out there a bit.  I like to laugh at myself and others.  The things I write are dry, sarcastic, sometimes funny, sometimes angry... but I do strive to be honest. However, not honest in that cruel or "up-in-your-business" sort of way that people use to hurt you or get in your face about something.  They say something hurtful and then follow it up with "but, I'm just being honest!" or "I'm just a very honest person." And I'm honestly going to punch you in the face.

So, I'm pretty sure my single, childless, brother-in-law thought he was just being "honest" (honestly out of his league) when he posted two links about fetal alcohol syndrome under one of my funny posts on FB. I was at my father's 70th birthday brunch and partook in my family's Bloody Mary tradition.  Just one, in the midst of a breakfast buffet that I eagerly filled my belly with.  I am 5 months pregnant now, and my alcohol consumption has been consisted of a glass of excellent Greek wine on Valentine's day and the now infamous Bloody Mary.  Except for my first pregnancy (I was too young to drink or vote or be pregnant for that matter), I have had a drink here or there during pregnancies 2 and 3.  And it's 2013... we are past the Mad Men era of constant drinking, smoking, and weird prescribed drugs during pregnancies and the follow-up backlash against it all.  In 2013, I have plenty of information and maternity experience to make my own informed decisions.  And my FB friends know me... either personally or via my posts.  I'm a concerned parent but not neurotic, a little bit of a hippy, and a bit saracastic.  So, when I posted the comment, "Bloody Mary for the pregnant lady? Eh, why not, it's the 4th baby."  I expected my friends to get it... and they did.  Except for my brother-in-law who took it down the "You are maliciously hurting your unborn child" road and now I'm digging a damn hole.

But let's not stop there... remember that VBAC blog I did titled, "Intellect and Eve"?  My husband's family is suddenly full of medical experts. Apparently all you have to do is have access to the interwebs and know a doctor, any kind of doctor... and you suddenly know more than me, my obstetrician, and my medical history combined.  And with this wealth of knowledge you have acquired, you are going to let my husband know all about how wrong my decisions are.  Because, you know, that's what matters in all of these medical decisions, my in-laws comfort level.  And I keep digging that hole faster and deeper.

Now, I wouldn't tell anyone how to throw a football, or swing a bat.  I certainly didn't advise my father on his recent bout with prostate cancer.  He is intelligent and had good doctors.  I could be online for weeks filling my head with internet prostate knowledge and still not feel comfortable telling him what is right and wrong.  Likewise, I could hang out with a pro-baseball player and talk hitting technique and never even dream of tweaking any of my ball playing relatives swings.  And that's just g-damn baseball which these people take seriously enough, imagine them trying to get in the middle of my motherhood.

In my head, as I'm shoveling, I’m like - haven’t I shown everyone what a caring mother I am?  Do you really think I would “maliciously” harm any of them?  I guess you do, and that is upsetting.  I have been pregnant 3 times before and have birthed 3 healthy, intelligent children.  I’m on my 4th pregnancy have been pregnant more times than anyone alive on either side of our families (except for my mom and g-mom, who each had 4 pregnancies). You really think I don’t know how much alcohol/coffee/tuna fish/lunch meat/allergy medicine/soda/exercise/etc. is too much?  And let’s say I don’t, is it really your place to advise me as opposed to say... my doctor?  How many healthy children do I have to birth or raise before anyone has an ounce of trust in me?  Or at least says, “Hmmmm, That makes me uncomfortable but it’s really none of my business.”  This will probably never happen, which is why I need to figure out how to stay on my side of happy so I don't even have to begin digging a hole to get back there.

And then there's the single factor in this.  My biggest critics are single well into their late 30's and early 40's, and who cares until.... until they fucking stick their nose where it doesn't belong.  Then it's a fast trip to "what the hell does he know?  He's never had children or a wife or even been in a 60 mile radius of anyone giving birth besides attending his own."  And this causes resentment for the single person.  They think, "Oh, just because I'm single it means I can't offer parenting advice or tell you about maternity issues?" Uh.... Yeah, that's EXACTLY what it means! Think about it professionally.  Do you feel comfortable taking legal advice from someone who is not an attorney? No. Would you pay someone to make your wedding cake that wasn't an experienced baker or licensed caterer? Probably not. Do you take medical advice to heart from someone who is not at the very least a nurse... oh, wait, ha! Then why the hell would you think that anyone wants to hear what you have to say about their parenting, marriage, or pregnancy? No one does, get over it. I am an experienced parent and pregnant lady and even I don't feel comfortable dolling out advice unless asked. Who the hell do you think you are? There, that was big shovel load.

Ok, time for some inspiration.  Have you read "Pride and Prejudice"?  Remember Elizabeth Bennet telling off the only in-law she would possible have - Lady Catherine?  It was awesome.  Elizabeth finally says after enduring cajoling, manipulation, and straight out insults from her future in-law, "I am only resolved to act in a manner that will constitute my own happiness without any reference to you or any person so wholly unconnected with me." Sigh. Put that shovel down Miss Bennet, you made it to the other side.

So, how do I get there and stay there?  There will probably always be a little bit of shoveling through hurt feelings and downed confidence.  But I'm pretty sure that as I continue to get more confident, the shovel-loads will get lighter, there will be less rocks, the soil won't be so hard and cold and the actual trip back to Go-Fuck-Yourself Land will be shorter and shorter.  Until one day, I am as rich in confidence as the new Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy was in money and satisfaction, and I will reign supreme of my own happiness.

Then a friend from far away (that's where you have to be sometimes to see these things clearly - far away), wrote to me with a suggestion for letting go of what people think and not giving them my energy for digging holes in the first place.  She told me to pray.  Pray for those who piss me off.  Pray until I mean it -  for them to have the best of everything - and when I do mean it, I will start to feel compassion for them and it will free my head to do the things I enjoy more.  She finished, "Maybe you've already tried that. I figured you'd be open to it since you practice a religion/spirituality."

Uh, no, I am embarrassed to say I haven't tried it. And that type of thought process is straight out of Catholic school.  How could I be so remiss?  And funny enough, it took a gay, feminist, tree hugger to slap my knuckles and send me to the confessional. 

 

Another friend of mine is Mormon.  When I asked her to keep my Boo Radley situation in her prayers she said, "Well, Mormon's don't pray for specific things or outcomes but we do say, 'Let God's Will be done." Hmmmmm, that's tough and cool at the same time. It is very hard to give up control and leave it up to God or the Universe... but if you can get there I bet it's awesomely free.  I bet in "Let-God's-Will-be-Done-Land" you aren't digging any holes.

 

But these two have great points, I need to pray or meditate and find a way to be at peace more consistently and that takes internal work.  Working in your mind or soul on yourself is the hardest type of hole to dig and you can be digging a long time. But that type of digging is completely worth it.  It's good, wholesome labor with a good outcome.  The shovel loads can be prayers and the dirt thrown away is relieving. You end up with a big pile of yesterday's worries and a hole straight back to your true self.  And don't worry, God will fill it back up with good soil to keep you from going back there.