A gestation

I find myself sitting here at 32 weeks and 4 days or so away from Doug's death, I was pregnant with Isis for less time than this. That gestation led to a delightful and challenging red haired imp. This one has led to a hollow tipped feeling of what the fuck do I do now. Hollow tipped in that I feel sort of hollow inside and there is the undeniable feeling of being ready to explode outward upon impact with whatever the next thing is that comes along. My body has finally flipped it's switch back to a kind of regularity with sleeping, dreaming and waking that I haven't experienced with consistency for a good 2 years. I get into bed somewhere between 9:30 and 10:30 PM and am awake every morning @5AM. I stay in bed until at least 6 and try to stretch it to 7AM. I had forgotten how much time is available to do things between 7 and noon. I can get more accomplished as far as those things that one needs to plan for like Dr's appointments, grocery shopping, classes signed up for etc, but the time of night cloaked magical awake dreaming time is momentarily gone. I find myself thrust into a schedule that would work well if I actually had a job that required me to be there and on time, the problem is that I don't want one, even though I just applied for one 2 days ago to fulfill a requirement for taking an RN refresher course, in order to retain my nursing license. What I want, is to be able to support myself doing the work that I love and am good at. A combination of body work and Wellness Dialogue. Unfortunately, it is a choice between spending the money for classes or advertising. Advertising in the past for my work has had dismal results but nursing will always have a job available for me as much as I shudder at the idea.
The Gate work was powerful in many dimensions, not all of which have revealed themselves to me. Going there with James was deeply moving and has opened the door for a dialogue that I have waited for for years, one of those that not every parent gets to have and one that many would rather not ever have. It is the dialogue where your child gets to dispassionately name your shortcomings and their effect on said child. While I am immensely grateful for the opportunity for trans-generational healing, it stings none the less. As much as I can forgive myself for all of the bad decisions, the absences and the plain old circumstances, I am still saddened and shamed by the ruinous effects that my actions have had on my family. It is especially poignant in that my touchstone for such matters has died and is no longer available for reassurance or just plain snuggling into the pain of real life. It contributes to the hollow feeling, the fact that I get me and me alone to comfort myself. Though at the end of it, I realize that that is all of us ever get, ourselves, it still makes me weep a bit.
One of the things that my children wish for is an intact and slightly functional family. I remember wishing for that. I don't have the wish, the inclination or the energy to pull that one off anymore. It is what it is. Several wounded individuals clinging to their pain and blaming everyone else for it. The task and it's enormity are beyond me. The only thing I can do right now is to cook breakfast and to hope that this emptiness shut's the hell up for a while.