Cat Skinner Club

More Mama Love

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From my girlfriend’s mama:

Three in the bed and the little one said “roll over, roll over”
They all rolled over and one fell out…
Two in the bed and the little one said “roll over, roll over”
They all rolled over and one fell out…
One in the bed and the little one said “ ROOM AT LAST”…

. .. I’m a sleep on the right side of the bed person…. Middle? – not in a million, trillion years…. I hear you!

Some of my best moments are when I am completely alone. That means I am not accountable to anyone for anything other than to please myself. Remember you too need alone moments and its OK to take them. That’s why partners go on vacation without the kids and away from family and friends.

Yours is a unique relationship and it may take considerable time to feel safe and believe that everything will work out fine. I’m guessing past relationships have taught you that separation can be nasty. I’ve had some experience with that myself. When the right partner came along and it felt so right, I did everything in my power to push it away. Fortunately for me I was not successful. We invest so much time and energy into building relationships that it becomes easier to run and hide and protect ourselves from hurt again.

Your fear may be based on being surrounded by love, whole and complete given freely. As you peel away the layers, the threat becomes greater and you feel more exposed, until you are warmed by the fact that your fear was ungrounded. The bottom didn’t fall out, you were still safely wrapped in understanding, compassion, support, patience and there it is again that word…. Love. You cannot be in a relationship with anybody without compromise.

My biggest fear in this relationship is that the one person who I care deeply about will be pushed to the background. Care taker? Provider? Taxi cab driver? (none of it my business or within my control to change – acceptance is key). There is more to be discovered. You echo my fears in yourself, interestingly I see you in the forefront leading the way.

You can’t change history, only embrace it, learn all there is to know and make new memories. I’m into instant gratification and get frustrated with process, it takes so long to get to the end and when you get there the marker changes so you move forward again through a different process. It’s a lot like piecing a quilt… I hate the process but love the end result!

What happens if one or the other decides they don’t want you anymore? What happens if you decide this is a bad idea and you have been a part of shaking up a generation’s perception of what a family structure looks like. What happens if this is the best thing that has every happened in your lives. What happens if the three of you balance your relationship better than any two-party relationship and become the envy of everyone around you. What happens if the world is changing and as I am discovering, your new relationship is no big deal, everyone is happy, best case scenario. What happens if the girls love you so much that it hurts. What happens if there is another baby/child brought into the family to shower with more love.

About the bed… the purpose is to get a “good nights sleep”, make that the priority – a little cuddle and then draw straws – adios, see you later, bon voyage, … I’d be moving to the futon, love, love, love it. … You can’t think straight or feel well when you are not well rested.

Post or not as you see fit.

God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference

Momma.

No! Vember

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I had a bad day at work. Here’s one thing to know about Leos; we’re great at success and terrible at failure.

I had a bad sleep last night. Three people DO NOT fit in a Queen sized bed, no matter how much they like each other. I’m getting night sweats like you wouldn’t believe, and I’m in the middle so there’s no place to go. This was the second night in a row of bad sleep.

I’ve had the blahs for about a week, which is so unusual with a full moon. Usually I’m bubbly and creative and filled with energy.

This morning I packed my overnight things and my computer, deciding that my bad mood and I were going to seek refuge at the Fortress of Solitude where I have not slept since August. I don’t have words to talk about what I’m feeling, and my new family does not need an Eyore moping around our apartment. My poor partners were surprised by this, but made a real effort to give me space.

As the bad day at work wore on I started to imagine myself alone in my former apartment, now piled with boxes and costumes that desperately need sorting, and this began to feel pathetic.

My family headed to their old suburb today to get the girls their H1N1 vaccine, and are having dinner with their old neighbours. This only added to my misery, and I began to feel sorry for myself for being left out. I’m not sure what kind of crazy person feels left out of getting a giant needle, but there you have it.

Then, at 1:45 I had a reality check.

I’m allowed to have growing pains, and I’m allowed to be under the weather sometimes. Even if it’s an extended period like the month of November. (I hate you November).  I can accept that, and since my moodiness mostly manifests in a more somber Schnoo, I think my partners are fine with this too. What I can’t deal with is not understanding exactly what’s wrong with me, and so I attempted to figure this out on my crisp bike ride home:

1.)    Residual pain and anxiety surrounding fertility and the trauma of a miscarriage

2.)    Displacement – although my partners make an effort every day to make me feel at home in their apartment, which though currently a bit cluttered is actually really gorgeous, it is not my home. More importantly, it is not OUR home. In “conventional” relationships it’s hard enough to move into someone else’s space. Try to imagine, if you will, living in a space where you have no room for most of your personal possessions, and where you are surrounded by larger-than-life reminders of a whole world that happened before you were around.  I don’t know exactly why this should bother me, but it does. Maybe because this seriously unique relationship is so new I sometimes feel threatened by the strength of all of the history my partners have together. They share over a decade together and two gorgeous children. I’ve arrived with some feathers and sequins. And some serious baggage. When I’m in a funk, I think of the one and only time I got fired from a job – they had to make cutbacks and I was the new girl, so I was the first to go.

3.)    Fear. Wow. I said it. Another thing to know about Leos; we don’t admit to this very often. I’m afraid of EVERYTHING that isn’t related to work right now. My recent relationship history has taught me many lessons – many lasting life lessons. I cannot settle into a comfortable groove that lasts more than a week or so because I am terrified. Of what, you ask? Let’s see; betrayal, imbalance between the three of us creating a world of heartache, not giving enough, my own feelings of jealousy that sometimes arise, that I will be left behind, that something horrible will happen when my boyfriend talks to his parents about us, that these two beautiful little girls will grow to resent me because adding me into their family will come with some stigma, that I’ll always feel like I’ve latched on to someone else’s fully-realized life, that one or both of my partners will no longer find me attractive, that one or both of my partners will get tired of me, or tired of our circumstances. Wait. That’s it. I’m afraid that someone is going to decide this whole thing is a bad idea. Oh my god. I have abandonment fear. I’m afraid of being left behind, and so I am examining every single fissure with a fine lens to find excuses to be unsettled, because settling in means that I am vulnerable to shock and surprise when the bottom drops out of my nest. Holy god, I’ve become one of those people.

4.)    I don’t have a four right now. I think that numbers 1 through 3 are more than enough.

When I was a little girl, my mother used to always tell me how impatient I was. This hasn’t gone away, and in fact, might be one of my biggest issues. I don’t trust process, or time, but I think I’d better resolve this because ONLY with process and time will I be able to see that I have little to fear from this relationship. I mean. we’re talking about finding OUR place together in the New Year. That’s only months away! And grumbling about missing my old apartment is only a reflection of my control issues. I don’t feel like I’m in control of my home environment. I realize it should be a shared control, but I also realize I’m subject to the occasional foible. Since I’ve started working from home, I’ve dealt with a broken dryer and a mountain of laundry, and have now started taking on organizing the place one room at a time. When I walked my bike into this place tonight, and turned on the lights, loaded the dishwasher, grabbed a perfectly crisp McIntosh apple and sat down to write this, I felt completely at home. What’s more, I also felt loved, and like there will continue to be light at the end of the tunnel, as long as I’m choosing to look ahead towards it, rather than down, or backwards from where I came.

Backwards from where I came. That’s it too. I know on some unconscious level choosing a relationship that is ENTIRELY different from any that has come before in my life was a way to protect myself on some levels. I also believe it’s a product of my own personal evolution. This is a classic case of easier said than done, but I have to make a promise to myself to start each and every day recognizing that these two people are new, and are in no way, shape, or form comparable to the people who have caused me pain in the past.  We three are all making huge compromises to make this work because WE LOVE EACH OTHER. Loving people should be so much simpler, no?

And so, here is a list of things that will buoy me up and get me over this late autumn hump:

Crafts with the girls in preparation for our home made Christmas tree
McIntosh apples
Crisp bike rides
My girlfriends and their babies
Weekend farmer’s markets and then cooking dinner with my family
Creating the Les Coquettes holiday show
Bubble baths!
Organizing OUR home
TV – renting a stellar HBO series and watching it curled up on the sofa with my tribe and a glass of red wine. I’m craving Deadwood, which neither of them have seen
The winter fair at the girls’ school. I’m actually making crafts for this!
Dinner with my family – my bio family AND my new family all under one roof
Letters to and from Alexandra
Pumpkin curry
The gym (I don’t know how I came to like this, but I really, really do)
Writing, writing, writing (I feel better already!)

I think that’s a good start. I’m sure there’s more, and feel free to send suggestions. I refuse to let a month on the calendar overcome me. I’m a lion for heaven’s sake.

If you’re reading this, it’s because I’ve had a long, lovely talk with my partners. I think I owe it to them to explain why I attempted to run away from home before I share it with the rest of the cyber universe.

Arrivals and Departures

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I’m standing at the edge of October, and I’m just not yet ready to dip my toes into November. I hate November. I believe it is the saddest, coldest month of all.

My cabaret company just produced and performed our first Halloween show, and I was amused to see how the show took over our entire household. My girlfriend sank her teeth into making some serious props (like a full-sized werewolf pelt), my boyfriend is still picking glitter out of his beard, and the girls are picking happily through the piles of tutus, pirate hats, and kitty cat ears in search of their Halloween costumes. My whole family got in on the pre-show prep action. I just hope it doesn’t grow old soon.

Two of my very dear friends have just had babies. Their first babies. One had a beautiful little girl, and the other a boy. I was at the hospital for the birth of the boy, and stayed in the room right up until she started pushing. She and her husband were incredible. She was stoic and brave, and he was supportive and positive. It was a real treat to be there. I spent the day filled with excitement, anxiety, and something else…something I couldn’t pinpoint until another dear friend texted to ask how I was holding up.

At first I thought it was strange that she would ask after me, and then I remembered why. I think it’s really positive that I wasn’t immediately aware.

Four years ago I had a miscarriage. It was fairly early into my last relationship. We weren’t always meticulously careful because he had told me that his sperm count was really low because he’d survived testicular cancer (I found out later that his previous girlfriend got pregnant the same way.) He didn’t think he could ever have kids, which was fine for me at the time because the place I was in was so dark that things like family and children seemed like a far away dream. I didn’t think I wanted them anymore.

Until my period wouldn’t go away, and until the home pregnancy test was glaringly positive. In that moment, my life changed.

Against all logic I was overjoyed. Timing couldn’t be worse, I had my doubts about the relationship, but I was going to be a mom. Sadly, my ex didn’t share my joy. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want to be a daddy. And so, we began discussing what we were going to do.
Then, the decision was made for me.

When you are in the emergency ward, with an unexpected pregnancy, and you’re leaning on the “we’re just not sure if we’re going to proceed with this “ side of the fence, people could give a shit about you having a miscarriage. It seems that they decide that you must be relieved and proceed accordingly, because hands down, every medical professional and doctor I saw during this week-long period treated me with utter coldness. Except for the technician at the clinic where I had my ultrasound who didn’t bother to read my chart properly, and decided to show me my dying fetus with complete delight.

I was still spotting, there was no fetal heartbeat, and my hormone levels were dropping.

They prescribed a medication that would cause spontaneous abortion in the comfort of my own home. This didn’t work, but DID cause some of the most horrific cramping I’ve ever experienced. The final step was a D & C, which if you don’t know, is a procedure where they put you under general anesthetic and scrape out the contents of your womb. This remains the single worst experience of my entire life.

Instead of taking a girlfriend or my aunt who graciously offered to come with me, I decided to go to the hospital with my boyfriend, who left me there for a doctor’s appointment of his own. (I’m convinced that he got a vasectomy that day, but that’s a separate entry altogether). The nurse who set up my drip had to try FIVE times before she could find a vein, and had no problem scraping around inside my arm to do so. They took away both my contact lenses and my glasses before they wheeled me into the OR so I couldn’t see anything, and I awoke in recovery totally alone, shivering from the anesthetic with only the hand-knit slippers my mom made to comfort me.

In Ontario, they aren’t able to tell you why you’ve had a miscarriage until you’ve had three. Yes, three. After experiencing one, while not even trying to get pregnant, I can’t imagine going through it again, and certainly not twice more.

People say things like “these things are more common than you think” or “it doesn’t necessarily mean there will be problems later” or “it just wasn’t meant to be” but these phrases are totally meaningless, and definitely not helpful.

Maybe it was a progesterone deficiency. Or maybe it happened because the universe knew that a baby would tie me to my ex forever. Whatever it was, it has left me feeling broken.

I want so badly to just be able to celebrate the joys of my good friends, but underneath my genuine feelings of happiness is an aching so deep that I have to fight to keep it hidden in my bones.

What if I’m damaged? What if I missed my window? What if I’m too old? What if? What if? What if?

I’ve always known what kind of life I want to live. I’ve always known the types of things I want to do. Never have I known anything with as much certainty as this; I want to have a baby, and of all of the remarkable things I’ve had happen in my life, I fear that this is the one and only thing I won’t be able to realize.

And so, because I’m so very grateful for the things I DO have, and because I don’t want to live driven by a need to pro-create, I carry on through my days breathing life into new projects and new creations.

When I got home from the hospital the other night, it was late. I said very little to either of my partners and headed straight to the shower. I emerged wrapped in a fluffy terry towel and I lay down beside my girlfriend. She took one look at me and then folded me in her arms while I began to sob. In four years this was exactly the kind of silent, knowing sympathy I needed, but never found when the wounds were fresh. I’ve never felt so loved.

My life is overflowing with riches. I’m surrounded by beauty, and love, and creativity. I have wonderful friends, incredible family, and a home filled with people who love me. I am so full.

But sometimes I feel so very, very empty.

We live on a mountain, right at the top

There's a beautiful view from the top of the mountain

There's a beautiful view from the top of the mountain

every morning i walk towards the edge
and throw little things off
like:
car-parts, bottles and cutlery
or whatever i find lying around

it’s become a habit
a way
to start the day

i go through this
before you wake up
so i can feel happier
to be safe up here with you

This struck me last night.

Sometimes I have these little destructive moments that I think I direct at my male partner. I’m sometimes aggressive without cause, or I feel the need to challenge him unnecessarily. Each time this happens he meets me with a steady gaze, and with total calm and so much patience.

I’m tossing these things off the edge, because the cliff we live on is so high, and the possibility for disaster is so great. In the past, I’ve come close to slipping and crashing on the rocks below. Sometimes I’ve been shoved off, only to land in pieces at the bottom.

He seems to understand that this exercise is like a small sacrifice. Each meaningless thing I toss out to bounce lifeless against the rocks means that one more bit of clutter or garbage is gone from our landscape.

This is how I’m learning to trust again, and there’s barely anything left to pitch. Perhaps next I will fold some paper airplanes to watch them float gracefully down, and watch as the wind takes them away.


Family Day

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Today we decided to do family things. As a family. All five of us.

We weren’t able to spend Thanksgiving together this year, and though our separate celebrations were pleasant enough, it felt strange and a little sad to be apart. We won’t be doing that again. There comes a time for all of us, if we’re lucky enough, to be able to create our own primary family unit, and for my own well-being, I think the focus has to be on us first.  I think we’re all in agreement here. So we’ll have to hatch a plan for Christmas.

This morning we all got up slowly, then we toddled over to Fran’s for a late breakfast, and then took in Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs in 3d. The girls have never seen a 3d movie, and they were rocked to the core. At one point, the three-year-old reached over and said “Daddy, it looks like they’re in OUR world!”

During our brunch, my girlfriend got a call from her mom, who had finally opened the heartfelt email she’d sent on Friday. We were all on pins and needles, hoping she wouldn’t read it seconds before they arrived on her doorstep for Thanksgiving dinner. They had an epic, but lovely conversation where her mama basically told her that nothing had changed, she loved her just the same, and she was happy for her new found happiness. Her Facebook status today even contained the phrase “You learn something new every day, and it’s all good.” I can’t wait to meet this woman! She also invited me for Christmas day celebrations. I was so happy watching my girlfriend’s face while she spoke to her mother. It was easy to see the conversation was going well. As far as her dad’s concerned, her mom just seems to think that he’ll figure my boyfriend is the luckiest man in the world.

When I turned 30, my boss at the time took me to see an amazing psychic named John Pothia in Peterborough. I don’t put a lot of stock in these things, but it was interesting to hear what he had to say. In fact, it was a pretty incredible experience. He said a lot of very positive things, but two things in particular stand out these days.

Rather completely out of the blue he said “Straight, gay, it makes no difference and the sooner you stop worrying about this, the happier you’ll be.”

Then, at the end of the reading, when I asked him about children in my future, he said “I see you having one biological child of your own, but also other children in a completely unexpected way. Stepchildren, or something like that.”

These people are my family. Our bond gets stronger every day. Our older girl includes me when she speaks of “our family”, and whenever this happens my heart melts a little. My mother sent an email to my partners today wishing them a Happy Thanksgiving, which was really incredible, and next week we’re all piling into my little brother’s condo, so the girls can meet “my giant” (my brother is 6’7) and we can all just be together.

I would never have imagined this for myself. When I thought about my family unit, I always had a notion that it would be a little non-traditional, but I could never have conjured this. Yet somehow I did. We did. I took the time to heal my heart and my head, and here we’ve all found each other.

In restaurants, nobody stares. In our building, the concierge desk is manned by friendly, polite security officers who smile knowingly as we come and go. In the hustle and bustle of this big city we are just another unit of people, and to most of our loved ones, this is just another way to experience life and love.

It might be the greatest joy my life has ever known.