December 9th, was the one year anniversary of the twins getting out of the NICU. Ever since having the twins I’ve been jotting down my thoughts here and there. They weren’t always coherent but they were me trying to figure out life and everything we were going through. The NICU was hard. Even if our kids were only “feeders/growers” it took me a really long time to wrap my head around the experience. And, honestly, I’m still not quite sure I’m there. Even months after we were out of there, that feeling I had in the NICU, that despair, that numbness, I just couldn’t shake it. But I want to start wading back into those memories and see if I can make some sense of them.
Here is something I wrote back in May:
It’s strange. I haven’t had a lot of breakdowns like I usually do after having a baby. It’s not because I am more put together or because I’ve got the hang of this. It’s that when you’re in crisis mode, you learn to stuff your feelings back down your throat and keep them there. I think I’m still in crisis mode. I’ve always been good at it. I’ve always been able to put on my brave face and get through hard things. But in actuality, I feel very small and scared and completely wrong for the job.
Since the babies have been born, I haven’t allowed myself a space to feel much of anything. Today I started watching “Call the Midwife” and I started just bawling during it. It is easier to cry about someone else’s pain or someone else’s problem than allow yourself to deal with your own. I constantly feel so overwhelmed and so much a mess that I have been on the verge of collapse or meltdown. And once or twice it would have been just fine. I was alone, the babies were asleep. I finally had time to freak out, to cry, to let it out. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t cry. La Lupe calls it desahogandose. Why? How weird. You forget how to feel.