Change

Wanna hear something sad? 

Lucy hates change. 

When I broke my legs I had a very clear thought that it a blessing—it was allowing me to stay home with my baby and do nothing but hold her (because I couldn’t do anything else) for days and weeks on end. She just had surgery and I just lost my job at the stupid charter school. We needed each other. She needed her first year to be on my chest and in my lap. Because her second year would be tumultuous and scary and terrifying, spending random weeks with her dad and his new circus, starting daycare and being thrown around like a toy. I can’t even make myself remember this without getting physically ill. When she was with me, I held her in clingy, obsessive way that made people look sideways. I kept her in my bed all night, I carried her up and down stairs and read hours of books on the floor. What if she developed an attachment disorder? What if she didn’t learn to trust and later developed a personality disorder or had serious behavior problems? I couldn’t even live with myself. The attorneys and judge didn’t seem to think all the change was a problem. After all, I took her away from her dad. The only one who saw the seriousness of it was the forensic psychologist, who worked as a school counselor. I told him how worried I was about her social/emotional future. He understood me and it felt so validating. All I’ve wanted for my kids was stability and consistency, yet it’s the one thing we’ve never had. 

Lucy copes with change by screaming, sometimes inconsolably for hours. She doesn’t sleep well. She hangs on me, insisting on being held, and refuses to play. Nothing feels good. Nothing is right. 

Today was crying day. 6 hours of crying, actually. In my face, pulling at my shirt, screaming. I don’t yell or spank. I feel impatient and want to start screaming back. What do want?!?! I’ve done everything!! But underneath the screaming is a scared little person who needs consistency and wants her books back. Who misses her sisters and can only be soothed with O Brother, Where Art Thou music. So we wait it out. The screaming will stop in a few days and she’ll adjust to the new normal. She needs extra hugs and tickles. She needs me to say yes more than I say no. I need people to stop asking why I can’t just put on a movie and get stuff done. 

I haven’t talked much with anyone about how hard this is for Lucy and me. The screaming and inability to perform normal life functions while she’s in this state. It’s too hard to talk about. It makes me angry that someone’s horribly selfish decisions have caused these long weeks of meltdowns. He says it’s my fault for leaving and destabilizing everyone. I wonder if anyone believes that kind of statement.