Friday, May 20, 2011

The Power of the Pen

For a different kind of unit, I taught a Creative Writing course to my sophomores.  We did some silly poetry, some silly paragraphs and lists, and in groups they wrote children's books.  Then, I showed them the movie "Freedom Writers" (amazing that many had not seen it) and I assigned them to journal for 7 days.  Some kids wanted to write a recollection of things they did throughout the day, and I said I would rather have personal reflections about things that they have experienced.  They wanted examples. They told me that I could not expect them to get personal with me if I did not get personal with them.

So I talked about Gabriel.

This was on Tuesday. 

Whenever I talk about him, I still tense up.  I still feel a lot of pain.  I still feel ridiculous.  I feel ridiculous because Gabriel wasn't like Evan, my friend's baby who was carried to term with a bladder obstruction and then only lived for about 11 hours.  I never felt Gabe kick.  Was he really there?   Yes......

On Wednesday, I went to my parents to help feed the horses.  There are a bunch of barn cats there, as you can imagine, and a couple litters of kittens from said barn cats.  My mom showed me some kittens that were just weak..wouldn't nurse...and it was apparent that they were going to die.   This really upset me, because they were babies.  Later on, I was walking out of the barn and was trying to not step on cats that had gathered by my feet, thinking they were going to get fed.  My mom walked over to feed them, and as I took a step toward the exit..I heard a crunch.  I looked down, and there was a kitten, under foot, seizing.
I was so hysterical.  I didn't mean it.  I didn't mean it.  I didn't mean it.

I cried all night.  I knew that poor kitten was going to die, and it was all of my irresponsible fault. 

I don't know why it affected me so much.  It wasn't a pet, just a ferrel barn kitten for all I knew...but it was a baby that didn't live. And I caused it.

Maybe talking about Gabe the day before got me thinking about death...who knows.

I am so paranoid now about Lucy.  Josh and I talk of moving her into the crib, and I can't bear the thought, even with a monitor.  I want her next to me.  I want to make sure she is breathing...I want to lean over and just know she is okay. 

I am now in the stage of motherhood where I am petrified of SIDS.   How does one overcome that fear?

Until I figure it out, she stays right next to me in her bassinet. 

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