Tuesday, June 19, 2018

I Said "Give Him To Me" And They Did

My day started early as I got up and drove to town to get my blood drawn for a doctor's appointment I have next week. I've been freaking about this, as those of you who know me would imagine, and have been since the appointment was made six months ago but today I was as calm and cool as can be and I have no idea why. I don't mind getting my blood drawn at all. It's not needles or anything like that which causes so much medical anxiety. It's more the fact that the blood which is drawn is going to tell people things that I don't even know.
I have just about given up trying to figure out why going to a doctor (or dentist for that matter) is the hardest thing in the world for me. It's just the way it is and I have no doubt that something happened in my childhood which would explain it but I don't know what that was and have no memory of anything that was too horribly traumatic. But the fact remains that I cannot bear the thought of anyone (even my beloved new GP) examining me. It's hard. My body's secrets are mine and mine alone, or at least that's how it feels to me.
First world neurosis problem.

But this morning went fine and I even cracked a few jokes in the tiny packed waiting area that caused some people to look up from their phones and laugh. There was a mother and her darling daughter and they were doing educational things on Mom's phone and I couldn't help but eavesdrop and watch as the smart little child could attribute letters to sounds and I'm sure I was smiling in that gushy I'm-A-Grandmother way when I looked across to the woman sitting there who was about my age and she had the same look on her face and our eyes met and we both knew what we both were feeling.
It was a sweet moment in time.
My phlebotomist was no nonsense and she had that blood drawn before I knew the needle had entered my vein. She was amazing. And I told her so.
"Thanks," she said crisply, as she undid the rubber tourniquet, put a bandage and a pressure wrap thing on me and threw away the stuff that needed throwing away. She didn't have time for niceties. I'm sure I was simply one more faceless vein in her day and that was fine with me because no one goes to get their blood drawn hoping to form a deep and personal bond with a clumsy phlebotomist.

After that I joined Lily and Jessie and their kiddos at the main library for Baby Time. It was a hoot. I knew it would be. So many beautiful babies and their mothers. Babies everywhere! All the babies! And some grandmothers, too.
Owen and Gibson were not feeling it. Owen was okay and didn't complain but sat in the back and read some books.

But Gibson? 
Not so much. 

Poor child. 
Of course, Baby Time is not really for the babies at all. It's to get the mothers out of the house and into an environment where baby behavior is not only socially acceptable but appreciated. Here's what August and Maggie were doing during at least 80% of the song-singing and story reading.

August had kicked back in Levon's seat and Maggie was trying to buckle him in. That child has never met a buckle she did not want to fasten. And she does fasten them. And unfastens them. It's one of her many talents. 

At one point I took Levon and followed Gibson out to where the books are and we all went into the play room. 

I do believe that Levon is truly beginning to know me and when he sees me and he grins one of his great big baby grins, my heart is so happy. 

There were more adventures today, mostly with Levon and August and Jessie. August was having a Mer day which is rare and lovely. When we went into the coldy room at Costco he said, "Hug me up!" as he shivered his little body. And of course I did. 

It was a good day although the heat has suddenly hit us full force like a hammer from the gods. I took a screen shot of yesterday's weather and found it most interesting that Monticello, which is the closest town to Lloyd, had the highest heat index of the whole area. 

And I am not tolerating it well. My walk yesterday was only five miles and I felt as if I could not have gone one step further than I did. 

But what can one do? I am as unable to control the weather as I am to control what's going on with these children who are being taken from their parents. And I have thought of them every moment of this entire day. And my anger at the monster who is in the White House and at those who support him and at those who do his bidding grows exponentially every one of those moments.

When Hank was very young, about six months old, I had a miscarriage. At the age of twenty-two I had somehow managed to get pregnant not long after he was born but I lost that baby. And to be honest- I was still so vastly and romantically and practically in love with my first-born that I couldn't even imagine having another baby so soon. And so when I began to bleed and had to go to the hospital because the bleeding was intense, I was mostly upset about having to be separated from my already-here baby, Hank. He was entirely breastfed up to that point and we had not been separated (by my own choice) for more than an hour in those six months. 
The whole story of the miscarriage and how the hospital handled it is long and complicated but the short version is that I had to stay in the hospital overnight before I could get a D and C the next morning. And at that time, the policy of the hospital was that children could not spend the night with a parent, breastfeeding or not. 
And I cried in complete agony and despair that entire night. Not because I'd lost a baby that I'd never really wanted to begin with (and go ahead and judge me if you want) but because I knew that my precious child was crying because he did not have his mama. 

I'll never forget that. And I'll never forget the complete joy I felt when I woke up from the anesthesia and the first thing I said was, "Where's my baby?" and they said, "He's here with your husband," and I said, "Give him to me," and they gave him to me and I put him to the breast and we both dissolved into bliss. 

That's all I can say tonight without breaking down entirely. 

Donald Trump is a monster and we have let him take control of the lives of the innocent. 

May this end soon, one way or another. 

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I swear I want fly to the border and volunteer with one of those immigrant groups. I wish I were a lawyer.

    Your precious babies. Hold them close. I love you.

  2. I hold them as close as I can. And I love you.

  3. every time I read about the babies I come this close to lactating, Swear it! And your story of having to leave Hank for an over-nighter just breaks my heart! I nursed Erik until his forth birthday , let him call the shots, and could not bear to leave him for a second, Oh dear, Mary, how awful. I awoke in the middle of the night, radio on, a recording playing of the babies in tRUMP jail, wailing, calling for Mama/papa/- DAMMIT ALL TO HELL! I thought that sleep might give me a bit of a reprieve from this horror- damned Radio - damned tRUMP and his evil minions.

    1. I have not been able to listen to that recording. I think I might die.

  4. I've had to take a Facebook break because I am stunned at the friends/family who are spewing their party line. I've unfriended six and blocked two, and if I read one more time that it's a law the Dems made and his hands are tied, I'm gonna freak the hell out.

    1. Tell a lie enough and people will believe it. Especially ignorant racist asshole people.

  5. Can you tell us something about the picture? Can I share it? It touched me and perhaps it might touch some people I know.

  6. Ah, I read back and learned about the artist and the poet. Thank you.

  7. my son was born at shift change at 3 PM and so the nurses put me and the baby and my husband in a side room which gave us a wonderful 15 or 20 minutes alone with him immediately after birth but eventually the nurses that game on came and got us and sent him to the nursery waiting for the pediatrician to come check him out before they would bring him to me in my room because that's how they did things when he was born but the last shift didn't call the Dr and the coming on shift didn't either and so by the time they did, the Dr wouldn't come til morning. it was the most miserable night of my life. I kept asking for him and they wouldn't bring him to me telling me to get some rest. how could I? I truly believe that time alone and then that long separation made him the clingy baby he became. he didn't want anyone holding him but me or his father but his father only when I wasn't there.

    1. Ellen- that's a horrible story yet it was typical of how things went when we gave birth to our older children. That was the main reason I wanted to have my babies at home. I could not bear the idea of being separated from them. It made no sense and it seemed beyond cruel to me and I have been so lucky not to have had to go through it except for a few hours when Hank was born.

  8. Just as I was reading this post I got an NYT news alert that said: "President Trump is preparing to issue an executive order as soon as Wednesday that ends the separation of families at the border by indefinitely detaining parents and children together, flouting a court settlement that prohibits that move, according to a person familiar with the White House plans."

    Which would be GREAT, but doesn't change the fact that Trump is a monster and that he's already done irreparable harm to something like 2,300 children.

    I'm glad you got to spend this precious time with your kids and grandkids. That picture of Gibson is a hoot.

    1. I should say, not GREAT, but better than what's happening now. What would be GREAT is if the USA stopped tormenting and abusing and, yes, torturing all these people just to make a point.

    2. Yes. I am thrilled that he overturned that horrible policy but I will never not be angry beyond belief that he initiated it in the first place. And how will they reunite these families? And how will these children ever recover from which can only be called abuse? And how will their parents?
      So horrifying.

  9. When I had to leave my 10-weeks-premature baby in the neonatal intensive care unit three days after I'd given birth, and I could no longer stay there, I went just a few blocks down the road and stayed overnight at my sister's, but she was chagrined to see my crying. "He's in the best hands," she said, "right?" And I knew he was, but it broke my heart anyway. That mother-child cord was stretched painfully thin! -Kate

    1. Your sister just didn't understand what you had learned on the birth of your baby. What she said may have made sense but it wasn't necessarily true.


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