So today I downloaded the forms necessary to bring with me to court in order to have my name changed, officially, by the state supreme court. Eight years ago when I married my husband, whose last name has 9 letters in it, I hyphenated my own 5-letter last name to his. I didn't want to be so radical as to not take my husband's name at all, but I also didn't want to 'give up' my maiden name--so I compromised and did the hyphen thing. Plus, I was attached to the symmetry of my name--first name has five letters, last name has five letters, both end in 'in'--it was a symmetrical name, and that explains my desire to hold onto it.
Well, it turns out that a 14-character last name (15 with the hyphen) is more of a burden than it's worth. I'm always having to spell it, it doesn't fit on my driver's license, and I can never remember whether I'm listed as the hyphen or just my husband's last name. The driver's license thing really drove the point home--by keeping my maiden name as a hyphen, I lost my entire first name, which is represented on my license by only the first letter. But after 8 years of this kind of torture, it was recent events that moved me to make the change.
People must change their names for all kinds of reasons, but primarily to escape child support, liens, jail time, abusers, and the like. I say this because the program I used asked me if I was changing my name because my life was in danger, if I was responsible for paying child support, and if I had been convicted of a crime. In addition to paying the court $210 to grant my name change, I will have to take out a public announcement in the newspaper announcing my name change to the world.
I've had it with the hyphen, it must go, and go it shall before this baby is born. I don't want to be alphabetized away from my husband and baby--we need to be under the same umbrella, the same name, a family in name as well as in fact. My maiden name will supplant my middle name, which I never cared for anyway, and I can finally start using the 9-letter name that I gladly took from my husband years ago. It's a strong Irish name, and I have absolutely no problem with it.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Let the Baby Brainwashing Begin!
I read somewhere, I think in one of the baby books that I have, that one of the side effects of the hormone surge you experience during pregnancy is that it helps to make you a better mother, and in fact prepares you for motherhood, by making you more empathetic to babies, and eventually to your own child, ensuring that you handle the entire experience better and bond with your baby. Ever since I read that, it has disturbed me, making me view being pregnant as a somewhat hostile takeover, a kind of invasion of the body snatchers. I'm not overly sentimental by nature, and where most women coo over cute baby things, I mostly cringe and run away. In fact, I didn't care much for babies or toddlers, I prefer to interact with much older, more rational children. I just did not get enamored of babies. At all. I have never been one of those women who knew all their lives that they wanted to be a mother--in fact, to be honest, I viewed baby-crazy women with suspicion. It was just so other to me, so foreign, I had no conception of how they could feel that way. That is, until I held a friend's baby last year, and I felt something, and I thought, 'I want one of those,' for the first time in my life, ever. Maybe it was just the right time, but that set me down the path I'm currently on. It's like some secret program, long dormant in my brain, got switched on and started running a babymaking app in my head!
Now that I'm in the middle of my own pregnancy, I find myself studying myself and my reactions to things with a cautious eye. Little by little, millimeter by millimeter, I'm softening towards babies. I certainly notice them more now than I ever did. I'm more empathetic to women with children in public, and I smile at cute babies and children where I used to scowl or look away. Yes, it seems the hormonal brainwashing is upon me, and by degrees I find myself changing my reactions to babies in general. I find this disturbing. I realize that it is a part of what happens to you, but for me it raises all sorts of ontological questions. I mean, who are we really? Are we just the product of chemicals in our brains? How can I go from children leaving me cold to where I am now? But on the other hand, another part of me is grateful that this is happening to me, because I always wondered how people become mothers, and this has to be part of the secret. I mean, at times I simply cannot imagine myself as a mother, and I have fears that I will be a terrible, cold and distant mother, because I can't imagine caring for this baby, it's just not real to me still. So I'm thankful that something--mother nature, hormones, whatever--is taking over and making me a part of this process mentally and emotionally as well as physically.
I am still incredulous at the idea that I will be a mother in the next 6 months or so, and I find the idea almost hilarious--ME, a MOTHER? What?? I know I will get there, eventually. And I will have to make peace with the fact that I will probably become something altogether new, no longer the person I was, but not entirely different, either. I just wish other mothers could be more honest about their experiences--I feel like mothers who act like it's the greatest thing and spout platitudes like 'it will change your life for the better' and use phrases like 'the miracle of birth' do the rest of us newbies a disservice by ill-preparing us for the ups and downs of the ride before us. I see these women on the baby forums, going on about how their one life's aim is to have a baby, talking endlessly about the details of their pregnancies and their children, and I feel alienated.
No one likes to talk about the realities, the hard stuff, the trials and tribulations; no one talks about the loss of self that women must undergo to some degree, the changes that will happen in your marriage, good and bad--the picture that they paint is of a picture-perfect family life where women all love babies and want only more babies to make them happy. I still cringe at this kind of thinking--I mean, really people? Is that all there is? This baby is not my end-all, be-all, though I will certainly love it and will do all I can to make it feel loved and secure. But I am a person, I have thoughts and feelings, and I don't anticipate those being entirely subsumed by the baby; I don't think it's fair to the child either. I also don't think my marriage will get easier with a baby--I know things will get harder, and that some things will not be improved by the introduction of a new set of responsibilities in our lives. Babies aren't some kind of magical plaster that, when applied, make everything glowy and precious. Heck, babyhood itself doesn't last very long in the grand scheme of things--eventually that baby will turn into a child and an angry teenager, but no one talks about that.
Maybe I just don't 'get' motherhood yet. Maybe it's the kind of thing you never really get initiated into until it happens to you, and it hasn't happened to me yet, it's in process of happening. I know that babies are magical creatures, almost mythical in the hold they can have over people's imaginations. But I feel it is my duty to myself to be honest with what I'm feeling and going through, if for no other reason than to maintain my own sense of self throughout this process, and to document what happens to me along the way. It's going to be quite a ride.
Now that I'm in the middle of my own pregnancy, I find myself studying myself and my reactions to things with a cautious eye. Little by little, millimeter by millimeter, I'm softening towards babies. I certainly notice them more now than I ever did. I'm more empathetic to women with children in public, and I smile at cute babies and children where I used to scowl or look away. Yes, it seems the hormonal brainwashing is upon me, and by degrees I find myself changing my reactions to babies in general. I find this disturbing. I realize that it is a part of what happens to you, but for me it raises all sorts of ontological questions. I mean, who are we really? Are we just the product of chemicals in our brains? How can I go from children leaving me cold to where I am now? But on the other hand, another part of me is grateful that this is happening to me, because I always wondered how people become mothers, and this has to be part of the secret. I mean, at times I simply cannot imagine myself as a mother, and I have fears that I will be a terrible, cold and distant mother, because I can't imagine caring for this baby, it's just not real to me still. So I'm thankful that something--mother nature, hormones, whatever--is taking over and making me a part of this process mentally and emotionally as well as physically.
I am still incredulous at the idea that I will be a mother in the next 6 months or so, and I find the idea almost hilarious--ME, a MOTHER? What?? I know I will get there, eventually. And I will have to make peace with the fact that I will probably become something altogether new, no longer the person I was, but not entirely different, either. I just wish other mothers could be more honest about their experiences--I feel like mothers who act like it's the greatest thing and spout platitudes like 'it will change your life for the better' and use phrases like 'the miracle of birth' do the rest of us newbies a disservice by ill-preparing us for the ups and downs of the ride before us. I see these women on the baby forums, going on about how their one life's aim is to have a baby, talking endlessly about the details of their pregnancies and their children, and I feel alienated.
No one likes to talk about the realities, the hard stuff, the trials and tribulations; no one talks about the loss of self that women must undergo to some degree, the changes that will happen in your marriage, good and bad--the picture that they paint is of a picture-perfect family life where women all love babies and want only more babies to make them happy. I still cringe at this kind of thinking--I mean, really people? Is that all there is? This baby is not my end-all, be-all, though I will certainly love it and will do all I can to make it feel loved and secure. But I am a person, I have thoughts and feelings, and I don't anticipate those being entirely subsumed by the baby; I don't think it's fair to the child either. I also don't think my marriage will get easier with a baby--I know things will get harder, and that some things will not be improved by the introduction of a new set of responsibilities in our lives. Babies aren't some kind of magical plaster that, when applied, make everything glowy and precious. Heck, babyhood itself doesn't last very long in the grand scheme of things--eventually that baby will turn into a child and an angry teenager, but no one talks about that.
Maybe I just don't 'get' motherhood yet. Maybe it's the kind of thing you never really get initiated into until it happens to you, and it hasn't happened to me yet, it's in process of happening. I know that babies are magical creatures, almost mythical in the hold they can have over people's imaginations. But I feel it is my duty to myself to be honest with what I'm feeling and going through, if for no other reason than to maintain my own sense of self throughout this process, and to document what happens to me along the way. It's going to be quite a ride.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
This is horrible news.
I just found out today from my sister-in-law down south some really harrowing, horrifying news about my sperm-donor (some people call them fathers, but this one does not deserve the title). He has three sons with different women, my younger half brothers, and unlike with me, he actually had visitation with them when they were growing up. Well apparently in addition to being a wife-beating, dog-throwing cretin, he also emotionally, physically, and sexually abused my three brothers. This was shocking news, and yet not so shocking at the same time. I would like to feel hatred for him, but I think someone actually has to mean something to you in order to feel true hatred for them--and I've never felt anything for this man other than a general sense of disgust and relief that he wasn't a part of my life growing up. What I feel is a sadness for my brothers, and an amazement that four reasonably well-adjusted adults now exist, no thanks to that asshole, but thanks to their mothers and their own inner strength.
Now I see that my mother was absolutely right to cut him out of my life like a cancer when they split up. I was the reason they married, and I was 6 months old when they finally split--and he did have brief visitation with me, because, as the story goes, I would cry so much when he would come and get me that finally he just gave it up. There is also a part of the story that involves him trying to come and pick me up from my grandparents' house one last time (where my mother was living with me after the divorce), and my grandfather threatening sperm-donor with a shotgun if he ever came around me again. Now with this new information I wonder if there's a piece of the story that I don't know...harrowing thought, that. But I have always been grateful to my grandfather for doing that, way back when, and now that gratefulness is increased ten thousand fold.
Somehow the story that sperm-donor beat my mother left me still curious about this strange man who was my father, since I went through an abusive stepfather situation when I was fairly young. When I turned 18, I sought out sperm-donor out on my own, to take for myself the measure of the man. Well I took his measure pretty quickly after only a couple of visits. First I went to him and visited at his shack in Gonzales, LA--actually stayed there--he had a third wife and all three sons with him that weekend. I remember they were very sweet boys and loved me immediately. Then there was another weekend where he came and stayed with me in New Orleans, and got me drunk on purpose (I didn't drink back then and had no experience with alcohol), and laughed about it. He also made creepy comments about my body that made me uncomfortable, and smoked pot on my back porch--so I shut him out after that visit. He tried to stop by after that, left notes in my mailbox--but I did not respond. I simply let the waters close over that again.
All my life I've missed out on getting to know my grandparents, his two sisters, their children, all because the break was complete. Now, I am grateful for that, because knowing them would not have been worth it because it would have meant I would have to have seen him along the way. Now that I am older, I have made contact with the family again on my own, circumventing him completely, and I'm the better for it. I was encouraged when I found out that my sister-in-law (married to the oldest brother) felt the same way about sperm-donor, and cited evidence for keeping her children safely out of his reach. The rest of the family is still in denial about sperm-donor's behavior--they still invite him to family functions, and sweep everything under the rug. In fact, I saw him again for the first time in 17 years (an my husband met him for the first time) this past Christmas, where all four of us actually took a picture with the bastard. Little do they know that sperm-donor's oldest son (7 years my junior) has had nervous breakdowns because of memories that have been surfacing for him about what was done to him. He is seeing a shrink and is on medication to help him come to terms with the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father, and the anger he should have been turning on his father, he was instead turning inward, causing him to have clinical depression. His PTSD was so bad recently that my sister-in-law's milk dried up from the stress of having to check him into a mental hospital again, so she had to bottle feed her newborn baby instead. Can you imagine?? I cannot.
Maybe once the aunts hear about this, they will realize that it is time to finally expunge sperm-donor from family functions. One would hope so anyway. But his mother, the 77-year old Japanese woman who lost her husband in the last couple of years, will likely not be able to handle this news about her only son, so they will keep it from her. It makes me wonder about my grandfather now too--did sperm-donor learn this behavior from his father, or from someone else? Jesus I hope not.
Like it or not, this man's genetic code runs in my veins. That thought disturbs the fuck out of me, now more than ever. People like him shouldn't get to propagate the next generation! He should have been put away as a sex offended years ago, if only one of his sons had spoken out (there was an incident with the second son but no charges were filed). Yet he has propagated four people, with three different women, and he's still out there, a danger and yet somehow still a magnet to women everywhere. At Christmas he joked that he thought he was going to be a father for a fifth time...and I just stared back. 'Things have come easy to me my whole life,' he said to me, out of the blue, apropos of nothing, 'women, work, children--these things just come easy to me.' And that was the end. He never asked how I was doing, or said anything whatsoever about me, even though he's seen me now at exactly two times in my life--at 18 and again at 34. Not that I expected anything, mind you--please don't think that, never think that. There are no words that can explain someone like him, there is no pity, there is just no feeling at all. The fact that the four of us are well-adjusted, strong individuals does not make up for the fact that sperm-donor is an absolute waste of carbon. He does not get credit for that.
Now I see that my mother was absolutely right to cut him out of my life like a cancer when they split up. I was the reason they married, and I was 6 months old when they finally split--and he did have brief visitation with me, because, as the story goes, I would cry so much when he would come and get me that finally he just gave it up. There is also a part of the story that involves him trying to come and pick me up from my grandparents' house one last time (where my mother was living with me after the divorce), and my grandfather threatening sperm-donor with a shotgun if he ever came around me again. Now with this new information I wonder if there's a piece of the story that I don't know...harrowing thought, that. But I have always been grateful to my grandfather for doing that, way back when, and now that gratefulness is increased ten thousand fold.
Somehow the story that sperm-donor beat my mother left me still curious about this strange man who was my father, since I went through an abusive stepfather situation when I was fairly young. When I turned 18, I sought out sperm-donor out on my own, to take for myself the measure of the man. Well I took his measure pretty quickly after only a couple of visits. First I went to him and visited at his shack in Gonzales, LA--actually stayed there--he had a third wife and all three sons with him that weekend. I remember they were very sweet boys and loved me immediately. Then there was another weekend where he came and stayed with me in New Orleans, and got me drunk on purpose (I didn't drink back then and had no experience with alcohol), and laughed about it. He also made creepy comments about my body that made me uncomfortable, and smoked pot on my back porch--so I shut him out after that visit. He tried to stop by after that, left notes in my mailbox--but I did not respond. I simply let the waters close over that again.
All my life I've missed out on getting to know my grandparents, his two sisters, their children, all because the break was complete. Now, I am grateful for that, because knowing them would not have been worth it because it would have meant I would have to have seen him along the way. Now that I am older, I have made contact with the family again on my own, circumventing him completely, and I'm the better for it. I was encouraged when I found out that my sister-in-law (married to the oldest brother) felt the same way about sperm-donor, and cited evidence for keeping her children safely out of his reach. The rest of the family is still in denial about sperm-donor's behavior--they still invite him to family functions, and sweep everything under the rug. In fact, I saw him again for the first time in 17 years (an my husband met him for the first time) this past Christmas, where all four of us actually took a picture with the bastard. Little do they know that sperm-donor's oldest son (7 years my junior) has had nervous breakdowns because of memories that have been surfacing for him about what was done to him. He is seeing a shrink and is on medication to help him come to terms with the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father, and the anger he should have been turning on his father, he was instead turning inward, causing him to have clinical depression. His PTSD was so bad recently that my sister-in-law's milk dried up from the stress of having to check him into a mental hospital again, so she had to bottle feed her newborn baby instead. Can you imagine?? I cannot.
Maybe once the aunts hear about this, they will realize that it is time to finally expunge sperm-donor from family functions. One would hope so anyway. But his mother, the 77-year old Japanese woman who lost her husband in the last couple of years, will likely not be able to handle this news about her only son, so they will keep it from her. It makes me wonder about my grandfather now too--did sperm-donor learn this behavior from his father, or from someone else? Jesus I hope not.
Like it or not, this man's genetic code runs in my veins. That thought disturbs the fuck out of me, now more than ever. People like him shouldn't get to propagate the next generation! He should have been put away as a sex offended years ago, if only one of his sons had spoken out (there was an incident with the second son but no charges were filed). Yet he has propagated four people, with three different women, and he's still out there, a danger and yet somehow still a magnet to women everywhere. At Christmas he joked that he thought he was going to be a father for a fifth time...and I just stared back. 'Things have come easy to me my whole life,' he said to me, out of the blue, apropos of nothing, 'women, work, children--these things just come easy to me.' And that was the end. He never asked how I was doing, or said anything whatsoever about me, even though he's seen me now at exactly two times in my life--at 18 and again at 34. Not that I expected anything, mind you--please don't think that, never think that. There are no words that can explain someone like him, there is no pity, there is just no feeling at all. The fact that the four of us are well-adjusted, strong individuals does not make up for the fact that sperm-donor is an absolute waste of carbon. He does not get credit for that.
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