Supergirl

http://thanksgivingmom.wordpress.com/  had an interesting post about her daughters eyes looking like hers. It made start to think about Supergirl.

When she was born and right after the delivery: she was wrapped and I saw her.  My friend, T, and I remarked on how she has the dent in her chin just like B.  Her lips were formed in the same way.  I look at her baby pictures and I see her lips and when I see her lips I see him.

She also had a dimple.  A one-sided dimple.  So that when she smiled only one dimple showed up.  She got that from her 1/2 brother.  I really don’t see it from B but then I don’t have alot of pictures of him and the ones that I do have, he isn’t smiling.  But the pictures that I have of his son, C, you cannot miss it.  It is on the same side.

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Then she started to grow and change.  Who did she look like?  Which side was she taking after?

Shortly after her first birthday she stopped looking like B and started to look more like me.  That is what I saw.  B only saw me and I only saw him when we looked at her pictures.  Our way to hold on the the other?  who knows.

I got their Christmas card in the mail yesterday.  Her hair is curlier but then it has always been curly.  Her hair is still medium-dark brown, and her eyes are still that beautiful blue that I fell in love with when she was 1 minute old.

Those that know about her here at work just looked at the picture and said that you can tell just from looking at the picture that she is mine.

I looked/studied her picture last night when I got home from work to just see what they were seeing and to continue to work up the nerve to see her next month. 

So what can I call me when I look at her?

Her eyes

Her mouth

Her smile

Those are things that they will never be able to change about her or try to call their own and really — I like it that way.

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The year

The year is almost over.  One holiday down, two to go.  I thought alot about Supergirl and wondering if I was going to see her this year.  It hurts that it has been almost a year.  I look at the calender and now instead of seeing a countdown for a visit, I am seeing a countdown for when I have to mail out her presents.  I look to see when everything needs to be wrapped, boxed and sent impersonally through the US postal system.

I picked out a piece of jewelry yesterday that I will not wear but will put away for Supergirl.  It will be her sweet 16 gift from me to her.  I hate that I have to think that far into the future while she is 3 but I feel as if I have to.

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I went on myspace the other day and my exB has a myspace page and went on and checked out one of his sisters pages.  She is pregnant.  Out of his 3 sisters this is the 2nd one who is/was pregnant.  One of his younger sisters lost custody of her son for a number of months and finally got him back and he is 1 year younger then Supergirl.   I wrote it in her journal.  On many levels I am glad that she isn’t involved with that family, or side of her family.  Just looking back there was never any stability.  There are 4 kids and none of them are married.  B is at his girlfriends house (I think) and his son is with his mother and sisters.

Some days it makes me happier then anything that she doesn’t have to deal with that or them.

Me

From just reading about me or knowing me from my writing these are some things you don’t know about me.

I listen to classical.  I enjoy Beethoven and my favorite is Mozart.

I listen to country.

I listen to rock.

I listen to metal.   You know the groups: Korn, Finger Eleven, Godsmack, the like.

I listen to oldies.  The Beatles and The Monkees.

I read.  Alot.  right now I am back in a reading mood and I am getting through about 2 books a week.  Each of these books are about 400 pages long.

I do crafts.  Counted cross stitch is relaxing for me.  Haven’t done it for awhile, need to get back.

I scrapbook.

I like to be with friends.

I like to be alone.

I can swear like a sailor.

I have been engaged.

I have to sleep with socks on, even in the middle of the summer.

I look healthy when I have  a fever.

My eye color changes.

I have colored my hair since I was 21.

I watch PBS.

I love to catch Antiques Roadshow.

I like to make my friends feel special.

The person I was

I was the good kid. My brother was the devil child as we called him. He was the one to always break curfew and get in trouble. He was the one who was always grounded while I was free to come and go as I please.

Was I then the angel child to my brothers devil act? Not quite. I skipped school. I smoked. There is one story when I was a teenager in high school and I skipped school with some friends and we came back to my house and were chillin out and my brother came home. He later told my mom that I wasn’t in school and that there were people in the house; my boyfriend at the time included. He was grounded for lieing and I was free to come and go. My brother told the truth and was grounded.

We moved my senior year and all of that changed. I stayed in school. I graduated. I was engaged to be married by Thanksgiving of my senior year. We were going to get married after I graduated college. But then life happened. Desert Storm happened. He went through some issues and wrote me a Dear Jane letter. He came home and was engaged and got married.

We moved again and my parents marriage fell apart. I no longer was told that I was stupid, lazy, fat. That I would never amount to anything. These are the “loving” words from “my father”. I don’t call him that. I don’t use that word with him.  I grew up with these words coming from his mouth.  That was my life.  I was the honors class kid, I brought home A’s an d B’s, and was told I was stupid.

I didn’t do therapy.  I didn’t know I suffered from depression.  I don’t remember a huge portion of my childhood.  I have huge memories I don’t know.

I wasn’t in a relationship for years.  I moved again.

I got involved with someone who is 9 years younger then me. He had 2 kids.  ! he saw, the other one, he was paying child support for but was not allowed to see.  We talked about getting pregnant and having a family of our own.  He lost a good job and we decided to wait.  By then I was pregnant.

I kept hearing my fathers voice.  I went to sleep and his words would fill my dreams, my waking thoughts.

I am in therapy and realized I could have kept Supergirl.  I could have been her mother.  I could give her the everyday love and not the long distance love and thoughts.

I could have.

I have a post started

but I hurt myself the other day at work.  tryping is hard to do.  It becomes painful after a few moments and it is really hard to hold my wrist in this position with a soft cast on my left hand for my thumb.  I will be silent for  a few more days.

For Supergirl

I held you but once

before I let you go.

but I wanted you to know

that – yes, I did care.

 

The tears that I shed

were because you were here and

also because you

wouldn’t be near.

 

You would reach for another

who would hold you close.

While I looked on from across the starry sky.

 

Everytime I see you

Whether in pictures or in person

I see your dimple.

Some days are so hard

when I just want to cry and hide.

 

But I continue to fight and cry

because I cannot wait to see:

The baby you were

The toddler you’re becoming

The girl you will be

& The woman you were meant to be.

 

 

for her second birthday

Supergirl’s Box

There is a small box

in a corner of a drawer

That I try not to go into anymore.

 

The bottle that fed you,

The blanket that held you,

The first photo of you

before you were born.

The photo of us from the hospital floor

The bracelets from my wrist that held you name:

~Baby Girl~ nevermore.

 

Somedays I cannot open the drawer

but it holds a little box.

And in that little box,

It contains a piece of my heart.

 

One day in the future

I know not when

I will open the drawer

and pull out a small box

And I will tell you about….

 

The time that I held you,

The time that I fed you,

and the many times I told you that

I Love You.

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