It's my first Father's Day and my first post in a long time. I think that I was seriously unprepared for how exhausting being a dad is in these first few months. My son is the most amazing beautiful creature and holding him lights me up in every possible way. When he's not inexplicably crying (wailing) and refusing to nap.
There have been ups and downs, in regards to family and friends, but mostly ups. We have had some great support from friends and family in ways that make me feel guilty for being so loved. Trying to open my heart to receive has been harder than I thought and I think is something I'm going to have to work on for a while.
More later - time to drink some coffee and maybe get some brunch in (as long as he isn't too fussy.)
19 June 2011
20 January 2011
One month to go
So many practical small things are involved with having a baby - figuring out space and stuff is more stressful than the birth itself sometimes. I suppose my wife might not agree - especially since she's starting to get really fatigued and losing sleep because there's a small giraffe in her abdomen. He's kicking up a storm, and it's possible he may come out running or wrestling or both.
When you think about having kids, there's always a nursery and a basement or attic for storage. Living in this city, most people have maybe a second bedroom. Considering how lucky we are to have a nice-sized one bedroom apartment in a a good neighborhood with reasonable rent, I feel ridiculous for complaining. But in regards to home and all of the deep psychological attachments to that concept there are several complications which make it difficult to be at ease.
First, the metaphorical 'home in body' situation. Pretty basic, constantly digging out how the closing chasm between my real and ideal form impacts my sense of self and stability.
Second, my brother finally sold the house we grew up in - which is good for him because he could not afford to keep it and he was able to avoid foreclosure. However, since my mom died that house has been one of the few places I can go and feel her presence. Not always a good thing and often a complicator in my relationship to my brother, letting the house go will be a healing experience in the long run. Mom held on to the house longer than she wanted to because, she asserted, she wanted my brother and me to always have a home that we could call our own. It was her grand effort at providing stability in a world where she found none for herself.
Third. The apartment we live in was my wife's before she knew me, and all of the furniture is hers, the decor, and all of my belongings that would not fit in an SUV are in storage, at my brother's house, or at my father's house (a two-day drive away). She has been generous and accommodating, but now that the baby is coming, my space and stuff needs are being seriously threatened. It's not just about having a dresser to call my own, or the type of bedside table that suits my needs, but reaches into issues of autonomy and safety and security. I think over the past couple of years I have gotten more relaxed and safe and secure here, but I had been living alone for most of my adult life. That's a lot of time. My wife bought me a turntable for Christmas, so I can feel safe that she will accept a portion of my record collection in the apartment. It's not about anything that she is doing or not doing - I think it is something that might take time to figure out.
There's more, but for now that's all I have. I wish I could wave some magic wand and stop thinking about and stressing about these things - it's not helping when we need to communicate about baby preparations - but that's not an available option. I think it's reasonable as a 39 year-old who got married late to have all sorts of adult needs for space and stuff that are particular to creating safe and secure home environments. Not inflexible, but not as flexible as a 25 year-old. I really pride myself on being able to unpack these things when times are tough, but I 'm having a hard time with this particular issue. I need to take a step back and define what I need to feel safe/secure and why, and how all of it ties into the loss of my childhood home, lack of safety/security growing up, and what I can intentionally create as home in all dimensions going forward.
I get so sad when I think about it all, chest-heavy and tired. As with most all things, I know it will work out, and that I have the love and support I need to make it all happen. Might not make it easy, but certainly makes it possible.
When you think about having kids, there's always a nursery and a basement or attic for storage. Living in this city, most people have maybe a second bedroom. Considering how lucky we are to have a nice-sized one bedroom apartment in a a good neighborhood with reasonable rent, I feel ridiculous for complaining. But in regards to home and all of the deep psychological attachments to that concept there are several complications which make it difficult to be at ease.
First, the metaphorical 'home in body' situation. Pretty basic, constantly digging out how the closing chasm between my real and ideal form impacts my sense of self and stability.
Second, my brother finally sold the house we grew up in - which is good for him because he could not afford to keep it and he was able to avoid foreclosure. However, since my mom died that house has been one of the few places I can go and feel her presence. Not always a good thing and often a complicator in my relationship to my brother, letting the house go will be a healing experience in the long run. Mom held on to the house longer than she wanted to because, she asserted, she wanted my brother and me to always have a home that we could call our own. It was her grand effort at providing stability in a world where she found none for herself.
Third. The apartment we live in was my wife's before she knew me, and all of the furniture is hers, the decor, and all of my belongings that would not fit in an SUV are in storage, at my brother's house, or at my father's house (a two-day drive away). She has been generous and accommodating, but now that the baby is coming, my space and stuff needs are being seriously threatened. It's not just about having a dresser to call my own, or the type of bedside table that suits my needs, but reaches into issues of autonomy and safety and security. I think over the past couple of years I have gotten more relaxed and safe and secure here, but I had been living alone for most of my adult life. That's a lot of time. My wife bought me a turntable for Christmas, so I can feel safe that she will accept a portion of my record collection in the apartment. It's not about anything that she is doing or not doing - I think it is something that might take time to figure out.
There's more, but for now that's all I have. I wish I could wave some magic wand and stop thinking about and stressing about these things - it's not helping when we need to communicate about baby preparations - but that's not an available option. I think it's reasonable as a 39 year-old who got married late to have all sorts of adult needs for space and stuff that are particular to creating safe and secure home environments. Not inflexible, but not as flexible as a 25 year-old. I really pride myself on being able to unpack these things when times are tough, but I 'm having a hard time with this particular issue. I need to take a step back and define what I need to feel safe/secure and why, and how all of it ties into the loss of my childhood home, lack of safety/security growing up, and what I can intentionally create as home in all dimensions going forward.
I get so sad when I think about it all, chest-heavy and tired. As with most all things, I know it will work out, and that I have the love and support I need to make it all happen. Might not make it easy, but certainly makes it possible.
06 January 2011
New Year, new strategy, new perspective
So I have noticed that it is hard to catch up with writing - some schedule may help - so I'm going to plan on writing every Thursday morning. No real reason why Thursday works except for the fact that I'm writing today.
My holidays were complex but good. I saw my father on Christmas Day and he was fine, although I tried to keep my distance while still being friendly. My wife was trapped by him a bit in conversation a few times and I should probably get her a present for that since it seemed pretty annoying. He only told one "back in the day when I was really high" stories, from what she told me, and his wife was lovely as ever. I like her, and am grateful for her presence in his life. She works with developmentally disabled and autistic adults so it seems like a good match.
We are getting close to the end of the third trimester, less than two months, and there are so many things to do. I am not sure how ready anyone is, and I think I have the regular amount of excitement mixed with anxiety. I am trying to choose my intentions carefully and seek out advice from anyone who has ever had a child. We are starting to get stuff from our registry flooding into the apartment and that's a little good/bad because now things are starting to feel a little cluttered. Nowhere really to store it all. I'm starting to really worry about the cats - we won't be able to leave anything lying around because they think everything is a toy and cat hair just goes everywhere. It's difficult to imagine not having them or what we would do if we needed to find another home for them. They are really wonderful and loving creatures. When our kid is born our friends might not miss all of our "crazy cat" stories but aside from the entertainment value they are bright souls.
I am thinking about my identity as a man and a transman and a father a lot as the birth-day looms. About how it seems that thinking about what I'm missing seems to be easier to focus on than what I have, sometimes, and how that seems to be a pattern with transmen I've known. Perhaps it's just the social identity of men is so closely tied to the penis above so many other wonderful and complex traits. I think it may be a combination of that and the trans orientation of being born 'without' - without birth-given form/function, without completion in transition, without a recognizable queer identity, and most often, without a clear career/job path.
I wonder if this doesn't bleed out into the feelings I have toward my father, and maybe he is not as "without" skills or merit or virtue as I often assume. It would be wrong to say he is not deficient in several important father skills, but maybe because he is a convenient container for my other frustrations, everything is amplified. Maybe he is a jerk sometimes, but I could perhaps choose to focus on the good parts and simply acknowledge that he will never satisfy my parent needs. If I can get over the anger and let it go maybe his love that he clearly has for me will just be what it is and I don't need to judge it as much. I will never have the father I needed as a child, that time is over. He can't be the father I need now either, and he won't be the grandfather that makes my kid feel safe and secure. But he does have love, and intends to do a good job. Sometimes I think this "without" perspective that I sometimes put on keeps me from receiving all of the good stuff that might be coming my way.
I think I do a good job at accessing gratitude for what I have, but this might be different. It's part of the same story, but maybe with a richer multi-dimensional before-and-after schema. It's a good instinct, to be cautious after being hurt. Maybe there's a time that defense would serve me better more delicately deployed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)