The skin of my emotions lies beneath my own

Nick will be leaving soon. What a new journey. His career with the Marine Corps ends July. He was just hired with the company, we've talked about for over a year now. Its so amazing how life just goes on. Ready or not, here it is. I'm ok, he's ok, but we both know that we are both "anxious". The longest we have been apart is 2 weeks, and we didn't have a child. I've done deployments with me ex husband, but this is different. And it won't be for a very long time at all... I think it's all of the sudden changes. Im excited that he will be happier. And this is what is right for our family. The income will be great. We will just miss him.

I have also decided that Im going to start a "little" business of making diaper cakes, sock bouquets and tutus to keep me occupied... and hey, they might bring in some extra cash. I'll post some pictures and create a different post of that later.

I am doll eyes, doll mouth, doll legs

Thinking about Camila's birthday. What an event. This particular part in her birth, was so alien to me. Maybe to many, and maybe few have experienced it. I was rolled in to the operating room. Of course I was already nude under my gown and wires. It seems like a dream, that I remember in bits and pieces. My emotions, I remember 100%. Maybe that's all a part of God's plan. We forget the pain, and the commotion, so we can do it again. Funny? Maybe.

"Ok, we're going to roll you from side to side, and put a board under you, that will transfer you to the other bed". "ok", I said. "all you have to do is lay here, and hug yourself". So I hugged myself and closed my eyes. Why did I close my eyes? I will never know. I dont really remember the transfer. I just remember being in the operating bed. Laying there. "Hi Mami, remember me? I just want you to know that Im here", said the cute puerto rican nurse that came into the delivery room, and prepped me on the c-section talk. She touched my forehead and sides of my head, lovingly, and walked away. The handsome and friendly anesthesiologist, came to my side. I was still alone. Nick was allowed in yet. He told me he was going to stay right by my side the whole time, and he was going to talk to me, and tell me everything that was going on. He did that and so much more. Monitors, IV's, and people suddenly surrounded me. I could still see my lower body. And then two poles came to each of my sides, and a green sheet blocked my vision. A cap was put on my head, and the anesthesiologist (I will call him Jim) started explaining to me what was going on. His voice was friendly, upbeat, yet soft and soothing. Like Nicks. I tried to relax. I was uncontrolably shaking. I told him this. He asked for blankets to start getting warmed up. I told him, I wasn't cold, and he said he knew. I was still shaking, but relaxed. I let my head roll back, and I looked up. I saw the big lights above me. They weren't turned on and flashing on me yet. Is that me? Are those my legs? That's my tattoo, my hips, and my pubic hair... thats me. There were two or three men prepping me. Two at my hips, and one at my feet. I was getting socks put on me feet, and compressors on each of my legs. "Wow... this is happening" I thought as I traced my legs up by body. One man was cleaning me, while another one shaved my pubic har and my stomach. "I am just another body to them. Another man is shaving my pubic hair, and seeing my vagina. Touching me, and its so technical. I couldn't feel it. It was so strange. I felt warmth, as warm blankets were put on me. "Im not cold, Im kind of hot". Jim said something, and it didn't process in my head. My shoulders were hurting from shaking so much. I farted... "Im sorry" I said. No one cared. Jim said it was normal. It happens to everyone. Ok... research later...it does. "here" said Jim, "rest your arms here". He pulled out arm rests from each side of the bed. My arms were bouncing on them. "Ok, remember those big pinchers I was telling you about? They're going to pinch you, to test if you're numb", "ok" I said. A couple of minutes pass. "He just pinched you as hard as he could, did you feel it?", "No". Tears started rolling down my face, and Jim caressed my forehead and hair, and dried my tears. I had so many thoughts going through my head. So many, that I don't even know what to write of them. Chaos, confusion, happiness, sadness, anxiety, fear, accomplished... I probably felt every motion possible. I started to think of my daughter. Stuck. Trying to come out... and my body failing. Is she under stress? Is she frowning? Is she scared? Is she waiting? Is she excited? Is she still in Heaven waiting for her body to come out, so she can occupy it again? (see...I personally believe, that before a body comes, the spirit can visit it's own body inside the womb. It can come and go. Sometimes, I felt emptyness. Like my daughter was just a body. While other times, I felt her love. I felt her sould. And that is the reasoning behind my thought) Is she trying to comfort her scared mommy? Her poor little head stuck in my pelvic bone. Not decending anymore. My cervix swollen. Swelling shut. Spiking a dangerous fever. Im sorry baby girl. Im sorry I didn't go in earlier. I truly didn't know my water was broken. Im sorry I was laboring at home and didnt know it. Im so sorry for all, if any, stress you are in. We are doing this together. You and me Camila. The doctors are just helping. Right now this is our journey. -what if I die? Nick will make such a wonderful father. Camila love your dad, he is amazing. If I die, will our spirits cross paths before you are born? Will I die after you come, and never get a chance to meet you?- no, no. You will meet your daughter, and you have to be strong for Nick. He is not showing it, but he is worried too. I think they cut me open. Im not sure. Nick comes in. "Hi baby, are you doing ok? I know stupid question." I told him to get the camera ready. I don't remember what we spoke about. He was just there. My husband. The father of my baby. This is our family. Its starting now. We will never be the same. "Ok, they're going to get her out, lots of pressure here" I prepared myself for pain. I've heard stories of the pressure being so painful. It wasnt. I loved it. I loved every movement that was made inside me, caused by my daughter. I did ever since the first flutter at 13 weeks. I imagined her, with every pressure and every movement. There are no words to describe it, so I wont. I wanted her. I wanted her so bad. I wanted to hold her, and see her at her first moments. And I did not. Nick was taking pictures and recording what he was allowed to record. He left my side, to go be by the new love of his life, his daughter. He cut her cord. I was crying tears of joy. I just wanted her. I wanted to get up, and love on her. Im her mom! I need her, she needs me. This is not the way its supposed to be! My feelings of love and warmth, turned into despair. I was supposed to deliver vaginally. I was supposed to hold her right away. Bloody, wet, just the way she was. I was supposed to comfort her. I was supposed to put her at my breast right away. I was supposed to kiss her. I was supposed to tell her that I love her. She was supposed to feel her mother's skin, and breath and warmth, and feel her mother's heartbeat. The sounds and feelings she's known. ALL she has known. We didn't get that. But we got to be alive. We got to be healthy. She got to be by her daddy. And my emotions calmed. I just wanted her. It seemed that everyone left me. I swear I was alone for a bit. Left crying tears of joy alone. A man came to me. Asked me her name. "How do you spell that?" "C-a-m-i-l-a, Paz, P-a-z" . OK now can I have her? Where is she? Why is she crying? Why isnt she crying? I can't see. Parts and bits are still a blurr. I wanted to scream. I just want her. But how could I hold her? Im still shaking. Not only am I uncontrolably shaking, but I am overcome by shaking emotion. "Here she is!" someone said. She is so beautiful bundled up in a little hat. "First family picture" Jim said. And he took a picture of us. Nick, or someone, brought her over to my face. I cried, and spoke to her. When she heard my voice, she turned her head, and someone snapped a picture. It is a picture I will always treasure. She smelled so good. Her skin was so fair and soft. Her lips so cute. She is perfect, and she is my daugher. I am a mom. It was 6 hours until I saw her again. And thats another post.

You want a part of me? Well, Im not selling cheap

When I wake up, in my make up, it's too early for that dress.
...Beautiful garbage, beautiful dresses. Will you stand up? Or will you just fall down?


I could just copy and paste the whole song. And I probably will end up doing so, but not in order. I have always loved hole. Courtney has always reached a part of my soul and heart that no one else can. Im not on drugs, and hell, what SHE means, may not be what I get from it. But I get it. I feel like she took my life, my childhood, my hate, my love, my embarrassment, my joy, my attitude, my pride...put it in a song, and sang it to me. I dont always sing lullabies to Camila. Sometimes I sing her sad songs. Realistic songs. I dont remember many lullabies from my childhood, but my mom always taught me and influenced me to listen to music. I remember her playing Silvio Rodriguez. I don't remember where I was, what I wore, etc. I was too young. But I remember the music. I remember her awful singing. I knew she sang, and still sings like Scuttle (The Little Mermaid). But I remember the warmth, the safety, happiness and wholesomeness I felt. She knows that now.

I hope that I can give Camila the same memories. I hope that I can rise to the occasion. It doesn't matter to me, although appreciated, that others tell me I'm a good mother. I don't care to hear it from my husband, I don't care to hear it from my mother. When Camila smiles, when she wants to sleep with me, when she finds comfort in me, is all the confirmation that I am doing ok. I don't always wake up, and look forward to "another day at the house with the baby"... and those are the exact words when I open my eyes. With my mascara sticking to my eyelashed because I didn't get to shower the previous night... yet, 2 minutes into the day with her, all the negativity is gone. I WANT to spend the day with her. When 8pm comes around,the night starts settling in, and Camila is getting ready to sleep... I think to myself, "where did the day go? I am lucky I have tomorrow to keep going. To make up for what we didn't do today. For what I might have missed today. For what I didnt teach her today. For what I didnt show or say to her. Yes, tomorrow will be better!"

Father of mine, tell me where have you been

My mom called me one night...in the middle of the night. She called me again when I didn't answer. I sent her a text "I'm sorry I cant talk right now, I'm putting Camila to sleep". She replied ok, I have some news, but I don't want to text" (not word for words, but that's pretty much it). I called her back a while later. She found my biological dad.

....backtrack 15 years....

My mother was married to an abusive man. We call him the "Grinch". The Grinch and my mom were arguing one night. My sister and I waited and listened in our bedroom, like a scene from a movie. We listened and cried. What a jerk. We were scared. Always. We heard a "thump", and things being thrown, so we go out to "help" my mom. The best an 8 and 9/10 year old (girls), could do, against a 200lbs, 6'3 man. At that moment, he pushed my mom onto the glass dining room table, and yelled "you whore, why don't you tell her who her real father is!?!" (I was still learning to speak English at that point, but I remember those words oh so clearly). I looked at my mom in confusion. Everything between then, and us sitting in a church parking lot is a blurr. She drove me there, we sat on the curb, and she explained everything to me. Getting down to it, I was a one night stand baby, while she was in process of leaving her previous abusive husband (my older sister's father, that I grew up thinking was also my father).

So, I wrote to him through facebook. And we have been "in contact" with each other. A couple e-mails here, and a couple there. It was getting very bland, so I asked him a couple of questions in my last email. NOTHING in return. Not in 3 weeks. Yesterday morning I opened an e-mail from him "Happy Mother Day" just like that. He writes some things in English (he is still in Chile), I imagine he knows some. He wished me a Happy Mother's Day, and apologized for not writing to me. He doesn't have Internet and had to go somewhere to write to me. He also said, he is a little lazy when it comes to writing to people, when he is not written to. I realized that I REALLY DON'T KNOW HIM. It's kind of funny. Duh, I don't know him. But I wrote to you! Did the e-mail not go through? Was I not the last one to write to you? I asked you questions... that means you write back and answer said questions.

I also realized that, I don't want anything from him. I don't need anything from him. And I don't expect anything from him. Just as I told him when I first wrote to him. I got what I wanted, I saw what he looked like, and I told him about me. I'm content, and I'm not hurt.

That's it for now, I have a hungry screaming girl.... :)

Here is my past... and I will continue with my present and future

http://paulaishardcore.livejournal.com/

Its so amazing to read my past. My old life, my old boyfriends, my old friends, my old husband... it goes on and on. So much changes in so little time. Im still the same person, just a bit grown up. maybe.