Thursday, October 26, 2006

What's in a dream?

I just watched the re-run of the ER where Abby & Luca's baby is born and she has to have a hysterectomy and has to tell Luca he can't have the big family he wants to have with her. It was a little easier this time, knowing the future episodes show her blissfully dancing with her child while Luca goes out with the ER friends, but Lord it's hard for me to watch babies being born.

Makes me wonder how Justin's doing emotionally with this Ob/Gyn rotation. Like Jeremy put it, "Wow, he was the first one to touch a life as it came into the world!" I think Justin's Marine-ing through it; he has a way of focusing on the work at hand and pushing all of the feelings some people (like me) attach to work out of the way. I suppose that's what will make him a good doctor one day, and I know that's what made him a good Marine and kept him alive when he had his career-ending traumatic foot amputation during that training mission. Justin can focus and hold his heart at bay when necessary.

That's not me though. I feel everything. My therapist says sometimes I'm like a burn baby--with everything so raw and painful and exposed that I can't really be touched and taken care of without it hurting more. Part of me so wants to be involved in the birth experience, to watch it happen, to hear life start with its little cry. It wouldn't be fair if the only part of life's cycle that I will get to witness is the little cry at the end when someone I love dies and all the cries in the middle that we share with each other.

It's not that I necessarily want to give birth, or even know that I ever could, and it's not that I even want to (or can) raise a child. (God, it looks like so much work!) I like my borrow babies.

But we had a name picked out for a girl and almost agreed on one for a boy.

A person can only live so vicariously--parents want to name their own children, have their own families in the room when their babies are born, teach their children their own values and histories and games. People do not share those experiences just because someone else might not get to have them and feels sad about it.

Is it a dream deferred?
A dream dashed?
Or a dream dead?

I suppose we shall see. And as whatever happens happens in my life and Justin's life, I need to let other people live their own lives and be OK with not being part of things I thought I'd be a part of right now.

After all, I'm part of a coffee shop (weird), an art show (surprising), a painting class (huh!), a photography club (really) and a family. Me and Justin. We're family. And there's those people we came with, family and friends, but he and I are really good at being married. That should be enough. That is enough. I'm just not used to this new scaled-back lifestyle; I'm still relatively used to imposing my rush-rush-rush style or being fueled by everyone else's rush-rush-rush style of living that I find slowing down a bit disorienting. This new North Park/Hillcrest feel is way more real, even if we are all quite a bit poorer. There's art here, and love, and everyone knows that no one really cares what your GPA was in high school.

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