Godmama Says…
a buncha stuff.

when the bough breaks

Sometimes (most times, really) I am overwhelmed by the force of love that has been washing over me and Adam like healing waves for the past week and a half.  Other times, I just want to find this “God” everybody keeps talking about and punch him in his twisted sadistic face over and over until I crush my own fist.

When tragedy strikes,  well wishers sometimes grapple for a way to find the positive in it for you.  “Well at least it had nothing to do with your health, so that’s good news, right?”  I’ve heard that one several times, and every time it made me want to eat the eyeballs of the speaker.   My son just died. Please don’t tell me what’s “good” about that just yet, mmkay?  But that poorly thought out pat on the back is at least based in something tangible and fact-based, as opposed to the list of encouraging tidbits that are mystical or religious.  At the risk of sounding ungrateful and bitter, let me make something clear:  the phrases “This is nature’s way of blah blah blah….” and “This is part of God’s Plan” come from the same gigantic load of horseshit that simply does not apply to me right now.

When there is a car accident,  there is always a reason for it.  Driving is dangerous, and there are thousands of other drivers around you hurling themselves down the highway at 60 to 80 miles an hour in heaps of metal and glass powered by a series of fucking explosions taking place about three feet away from your head.  So  as much as it sucks when an accident happens, it’s easy to see how things can go wrong.  There is always a reason.   Somebody fucked up.  Something was broken.  It rained.  There’s a messed up reason, but there is a reason.  There is order to how things work.  You might not want it to, but ultimately it makes some kind of goddamn sense.

There is not an answer for me as to what happened to my child.  He was perfectly healthy. I was perfectly healthy.   I did not have a miscarriage.  Through his own healthy activity, he managed to get himself tangled in his cord enough to cut off his own blood supply.  My own doctor called it “very rare” and  “just bad luck”.  “Nothing could have been done.”  There was no reason.  There was no fucking reason for it at all.   Just a cruel kick in the face from fate accompanied by endless nightmares.  I did everything right,  we got past the scary part where things are supposed to go wrong if they are “meant” to.   I was almost  six months fucking pregnant.  The highway is a dangerous place… the outside world in general is a dangerous place… my womb is supposed to be the safest place in the motherfucking universe.  My body is still looking for him.  I had a healthy child inside me, and then I gave birth.  My hands, my arms, my breasts, my belly, my brain…. every part of my body thinks I should have a baby now.   And not even my doctor can give me a reason why I don’t, and so my mind won’t let me rest.  It searches,  wanders deep into the darkest parts of space and my exhausted angry mind looking for a reason.  There is not a reason.   I’m supposed to be looking for a cradle and a car seat to put my kid in right now, not an impossibly tiny fucking urn.   I’m supposed to be thinking about where to send him to school,  not where to scatter his fucking ashes.    No reason.  So if there is a god, and this is part of his “plan”,  then FUCK. THAT. GUY.

Yeah, I’m getting mad. I have always heard that one of nature’s most dangerous animals is a mother whose young has been threatened. You’re telling me the only thing I have to blame for this is God’s mysterious ways??  And then I’m supposed to pray to this same asshole for comfort?  What is he, some kind of mob boss who kills your family but then you have to kiss his ass and pay him off so he doesn’t kill you, too?  No, thanks.

At this moment in time, I can’t remember what I believed in before,  spirit-wise.  I know there was something.  I had some kind of faith…  If the creation of life and the birth of a child is the ultimate example of a faith affirming “miracle”, then this is the opposite of all that.   When a star dies,  it creates a black hole that sucks in everything around it… even Light.   So what, then, when a star dies inside you?    Is this when I cross over to the dark side of the force?  Might as well.. even Darth Vader had kids….

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5 Responses to “when the bough breaks”

  1. I’m so sorry. I love you.

  2. This whole experience is a huge fucking pile of bullshit. Your writing about this experience, on the other hand, is fucking amazing.

  3. I’m so sorry for your pain, Maya and Adam. I would never presume to say why this happened, or tell you how you should feel. I can only say that my thoughts are with you, and pray to the God(dess) I believe in to bring you what ever comfort you can find, however you can.

  4. I stared at the white blinking light debating whether to say anything at all. I’m sorry for your loss & I’m sorry I can’t offer any words of comfort or if there even is such a thing. I myself am dealing with the loss of my dad (which in no way can compare to your loss). I’ve heard it all, from “at least he’s not in pain…He’s in a better place…it’s God’s will” or the “give it some time-it’ll get better”. That may be, but right now it just hurts. My brain knows that those “words of comfort” are probably true but my heart can’t comprehend what has happened.
    Thank you for sharing. Here’s to healing hearts.

  5. I cry for “him”. Cruel. I can’t imagine… I’m trying not to.

    Great expression of your feelings and thoughts.

    Love.


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