I longed for the freedom to pick up and go to the movies or on a hike or a trip out of the country. Chris and I used to go on spontaneous trips and mini-vacations. Sometimes I would take a job in a city that we hadn't been to, and we'd extend the trip and explore. We could sleep when we wanted to and make our own schedule, depending on how we felt. Because our work is versatile, we could find ourselves stateside one day and needing a passport the next. Even if we were home, we managed to be creative and stayed busy.
I love schedules but prefer to be the person making them. It occurred to me that my life was no longer my own and that I was a prisoner to a small, squeaking creature. I did not like it one bit. I felt stuck. I did not want the responsibility this situation demanded. I started feeling like I had made a terrible mistake in having this child. I would look at how little and vulnerable she was and didn't feel at all capable of tending to her needs. Her helplessness terrified me. Rather than wanting to care for her, I wanted to forget her and run away.
Sometimes when I went to the bathroom and tried not to gag at the blood and "stuff" that continuously came pouring out of my body, I wondered how the human race survived. Why would anyone do this more than once? I had thought that it would all get better once we got home, but it was unbelievably worse. I felt no connection to my daughter and wanted to die because of it. She grew inside my body, for God's sake, and I didn't even feel related to her. I had always thought I would immediately feel closer to my child than I did to anybody else in my life. I'd thought we would be undeniably bonded from the moment I laid eyes on her. What was wrong with me? What a horrible mother I was! Her cry didn't annoy me or grate on my nerves, but it also didn't register with me, either. I felt numb to it. I practically had to strain to hear her voice, which seemed so far away, even though she was in the adjoining room and the door was open. I could almost justify not hearing it.