Oh my lovely online open faced diary how I love thee…
Let me count the ways…
Oh the L word. Not lesbian…but the four letter “L” word that gets many in trouble and hurts equal parts too. LOVE. I propose a ban on using this word in its entirety because of the damage and destruction associated with the reckless usage of such a horrific word.
I have loved. I have lost. I have learned that not all love in the same capacity. I’d like to say I love my family, but I do not think the feeling is mutual. It’s never been really mutual with my family as I have always been pretty much the middle stepchild. In this journey called life, I have found in the most recent turn of events myself to be alone. It’s really just me, myself and I.
And of course my beautiful daughter. She loves me mostly.
This bout of depression that I have fallen victim to has taken my psyche over in ways I never thought possible. I cannot shake the constant emotion of feeling alone…my family pretends to be there only when it’s convenient for one of them to call just to find out my whereabouts. My mothers’ other child for example so selfishly let my niece go with a sitter the weekend before Christmas, knowing she didn’t feel well and without sending her proper medication. I happened to call a mutual friend of ours that Saturday night around 6 because I simply needed a phone charger. I had just gotten into a pretty heated argument with the boyfriend who was clearly cheating on me and had obviously moved on with a wretched “woman”; needless to say, I was having a bad day. The mutual friend then tells me my niece is on her way to her house to get a breathing treatment for her asthma so of course, I walk across the parking lot to go see my other baby. I walk in and she’s sitting on the side of the bed breathing heavily. She looked very lethargic…awake, but not coherent. I started to talk to her and just ask her a couple of little questions like if she was hungry.
She shook her little head yes, she was hungry but then my girlfriend who lived at this place said with her breathing being the way it had been, food is not something that my niece needed at that moment. I respected that and agreed. The next thing I know, her breathing becomes more and more difficult with her now starting to cry. I put my arms around her, holding her, hugging her trying to keep her breathing treatment over her little face. At this point, my girlfriend gets on her phone, steps on the back porch and calls 911 as it is becoming painfully obvious her breathing is becoming more and more difficult with each passing second. Within a paltry amount of time, (3:52 seconds to be exact) my niece went from breathing deeply with great difficulty to basically having a full blown panic attack. She grabbed the plastic piece from her face that was forcing the asthma medication down her lungs and threw it down. Once that happened, her screaming escalated, her breathing got deeper and much more shallow and she began to go limp. Her porcelain skin began to turn a light shade of blue in my arms. Her little lips the hue of a clear blue sky on a spring afternoon.
My baby went limp in my arms. At that moment, I just knew I witnessed my niece die in my arms. I laid her down immediately so the sitter could perform CPR on the baby to keep her breathing going…even if artificially. I grabbed my phone, ran out the front door and vigorously dialed her fathers number so he could get there as fast as he could…I would hate for this to be her last moments and no one told her father. The other girls had evidently tried to get in touch with my mothers other child (She’s no longer classified as my sister, but just a product of my mother’s egg and her father’s sperm) but of course, to no avail. Within just a minute or two, my nieces father was there…and in shock when he looked in the ambulance and saw his baby lying there…trying to be revived.
All I could do was cry. I fell to the ground and just howled. I was traumatized….my niece almost died in my arms and there was nothing I could do but scream ‘BREATHE BABY BREATHEEEEE!!!”
She is now out of rehab, almost four months later…but this is where the problem lies. My mother’s daughter was NOT THERE. She knew this baby wasn’t feeling well yet still sent her with a sitter without the proper medication. When the baby was at the hospital she was there an hour and a half after we arrived then left at 1:30 am. I stayed until almost 4 am. The baby’s father and his girlfriend: stayed the whole night and almost the entire next day. As the days went on, my mothers daughter made it more and more difficult for the father of the child to be around the baby because of her brash words and horrible treatment of his girlfriend. His girlfriend just happened to be one of my best friends so of course, I got tired of hearing my mother’s sister, my mother’s daughter and herself belittling this woman who cared for that child as if she was her own. Much better than her alcoholic drug riddled mother also known as my mother’s other child. So I stood up for her.
My family of course did not like that and that meant I was cast away from seeing my niece. I haven’t seen that baby in damn near 3 months and they expect me to just be okay? I am one of the three who SAW THE WHOLE THING HAPPEN. Not one of them will have the image emblazoned in their mind of that baby pretty much lying dead in MY ARMS.
I miss that child so much and yet my mother and my family continue to protect her other daughter and defend her every action.
What the FUCK ever…
Between having a “boyfriend” who clearly has made his choice to have other things before me and a family who doesn’t mean shit to me and struggling to still be a good mom to my daughter, it’s been one hell of a year already.
Where is the light at the end of the tunnel?!