Simone came to us with an upper respiratory infection (we asked for a foster who needed a place to recuperate -- it's a big help to the shelter since they only have so much isolation room to prevent the spread of germs). This is her second round of antibiotics, and we're hoping it works this time. It probably didn't help that we hadn't figured out how to help Simone keep her meds in her tummy for the first week's course, but she's definitely more adept at rejecting them than our last foster was.
While I've been sitting here, I've been thinking about these last few months since my return from Little U. on the Prairie. As much as life has vastly improved for me and D now that we're no longer doing the long-distance marriage thing, it's been an adjustment for both of us. I don't mean the little habits we each have that we have to accommodate now that we share the same physical space all the time. Those are pretty easy, and even welcome. I'm talking about the aftermath itself of having been put through the two-year emotional wringer of living in separate places, resenting the situation, and having to suppress a lot of those unhappy feelings in order to keep the marriage intact.
Bad things happen when you stuff your feelings into a dark hole and hope they never surface again.
Both of us did that to varying degrees, and sometimes the feelings leach out in the most unexpected ways. They lead to misunderstandings, arguments, confusion about why our emotions are suddenly running so high.
Lately, we've been trying to unpack all that, acknowledge how wounded we each felt, how we still bristle when our wounds get unintentionally poked. It's helping, I think, but slow. Both of us are different people because of the last two years. But because we weren't there to see the effects of that painful time on the other person, because we couldn't show those effects to each other for fear of making things too unbearable, we react to each other now as if the other person is still someone s/he used to be. When the differences become evident, it's sometimes saddening, disappointing. Or encouraging and relieving. You never know what you'll find out next. I guess that's what makes it scary but also compels us to keep pushing on. We can't not do this.
I just wish it could be a less exhausting process.
5 comments:
I think you did a great job of explaining that dynamic, CT, especially that sense of keeping things bottled up in order to keep it all together. I totally get that. I mean, if you're just spending occasional weekends together, it's hard to spend them in conflict. It's great that you recognize this and are trying to unpack it all now. I can't relate entirely since I didn't do the long distance thing, but I think my hubby and I did that a little bit when we got pregnant six weeks into the relationship. Plus, we are conflict avoiders in general, which means when we do have conflict, I can go from zero to ninety in two minutes, and he can get sarcastic and shut down.
It's hard for me to imagine the separation or the reunion you guys have gone through, but I appreciate you sharing these thoughts because they still strike a chord with me.
Good luck with Simone! :)
Yes, I should imagine it is quite strange to be together as a normal family unit again. But look how you both coped with the enforced separation; I am sure that many couples separate eventually under such circumstances. You both did very well and in a few more months time I am sure things will have evened themselves out.
As for the poor little kitty, I am more a dog person but, like most sensitive folk everwhere, a sick animal of any species is enough to make me want to hug and cuddle it better.
GEW -- thanks. We've had a hard week with this stuff. I think D is a conflict avoider too in that he wants to make the problem go away by resolving it once and for all, then never coming back to it. The "shut down" is sometimes too early for me (my thought is if we're going to have a conflict, let's figure out what's at the root of it and deal with it). And that reaction from me maddens him further. Not the best way to try to get to a better understanding of each other or resolve the issue itself, whatever it may be.
I can't totally imagine how challenging it was to find out you were pregnant six weeks into your relationship with your husband, but I can relate in some ways, based on my worries about becoming a parent. Those plans are not far off in our future, partly because my body seems to be telling me not to wait much longer, given all the complications from prediabetes. I guess, being someone who wants to be emotionally prepared for big life changes, I would have freaked out big time if I'd been in your place. I am totally impressed that you guys made it work and have two wonderful, wonderful children who bring you such joy. Your blog gives me hope that parenthood will be worth it, as much as I fear it sometimes.
I'm replying after another morning of kitty burrito fun. Seems to be working! (Simone wouldn't tell you that, but she's a cat.)
FF -- I have no doubt that many couples break under the strain of commuting, and I wouldn't judge them for it either, having been in the position of the commuter. I think being back together isn't so much strange as unpredictable. Emotionally unpredictable because of the wounds that haven't healed. That's what we're trying to fix now by getting to know each other again.
I think having Simone has helped. At least we both are on the same side when it comes to caring for her.
Oh, your poor little kitty!
You do such a beautiful job, here. I love how you compare unpacking your emotional baggage to actual unpacking of belongings/physical things. You are right, you have to do both, and both jobs are arduous.
Wishing you nothing but the best.
Kitty is on the mend, I think, TKW :). Burrito swaddling is making a difference.
We're on the mend too, even if we're only taking baby steps. Thanks for the good wishes. Thinking of you too.
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