How Green Becomes Wood

Dark bent down and took Ivy up, kissing her hair and walking outside with her as he chided her absolute rudeness.


After a few moments Daizi said, "We're just planning parties. And she's with her father much of the time, since I still work, even if it's at home. It's really not... It's not what it looks like. We've been working into some things, and it's needed."
 
"Alright. I just wanted to offer you a way to have a few minutes to yourself. You do whatever it is you need to do, darling, and if you need me, please do not hesitate to call," Sally said sympathetically. "I may not understand your methods, but that does not mean I don't want to try to help you achieve them. All you have to do is tell me what you need me to do. Or not do, I suppose."
 
"Thank you. My problem is, I guess it's a problem, is that even though I have time alone, I still think about it all. Being alone doesn't do as much as I think it's meant to." Daizi explained, pushing up off the floor to sit on the couch instead.
 
"Ah," Sally said, understanding that. "An old solution is not working quite as well as it used to? Or perhaps it's a new thing? Having alone time can be a bit of an art to perfect to utilize it for self-care. It is not easy when your problems refuse to leave you alone for your down time."
 
"I think it's been a long time that we've had a problem without an antagonist." Daizi said after thinking for a moment, "At least, it's been a long time since we've had a problem that seemed less than definite. When Ivy was brand new, and we, Dark and I, were so exhausted and worn out, we knew those early, sleepless nights wouldn't last forever. And when Dark was struggling after going back to work, that was hard, it always is, but I know him, and I know how he always comes back around, even though it's difficult until he does. And it helped that I could guess there were specific problems eating at him. So, when I took time to do things 'for me,' even though it was more difficult to find that time with how much Ivy nursed then, I could..." She shook her head, patting the couch to call her dog over, "But now everything is ephemeral."
 
"Now it is a different beast entirely," Sally agreed. "That is difficult to face. It is much harder to define what will or will not help with a situation like that, and it is much harder to leave in another room, isn't it?"
 
"It's much harder," Daizi agreed. "It's not my first time having this sort of thing, but it's my first time when I have children. And that makes it difficult. But I know it can't last, so it won't last, so I'm fine. I'm okay."
 
"Hmm," Sally said doubtfully. "Daizi, love, I have no doubt that this will end and that you will make it through it. I truly do not. I do, however, worry how unscathed you may or may not be at the end. There is a lot going on. You have so much, you give so much, and I adore you for it, but I am worried for you. I would have cracked long ago at the pressure you are under, and I worry you might crack as well, and at the most inopportune moment. Maybe you should give yourself a good screaming session at your first available opportunity. It might help."
 
For a few moments Daizi was silent, listening to her friend, but had no idea how to respond to it. Unlike Dark, who had a habit of shutting down other's worries, especially if he didn't feel sufficiently close to them (and he didn't feel sufficiently close to most people), Daizi did generally try to listen to people's concerns and genuinely did appreciate it. "People keep telling me that. But people have always told me that, and it doesn't feel... fair that... On Friday, we're finalizing something I've wanted for so long, and next Saturday I'm celebrating my baby's first birthday, after thinking I'd never celebrate a successful birth, and then I get to celebrate Halloween, and remarry my husband. There is so many wonderful things just there. I don't want everyone feeling sorry for me. I can't stand people feeling sorry for me."
 
"While they might seem similar, there is a big difference between feeling sorry for someone and displaying empathy and compassion, darling," Sally pointed out. "You and I are stong, independent women in careers dominated by men. That by itself means we had a lot to overcome to earn the respect of at least some of our peers and betters. You had a much harder fight than I, and I believe that has made you the stronger woman. You are amazing, and I know you know that, but you and I are also mothers and wives, and those two things are also full-time jobs! I would never, ever change a thing, I would give up my career before I gave up my husband or my son, but I would give it up with a fight, I must admit. You got introduced to motherhood in the most traumatic way possible, and I can see every time I look at you how much you adore your little ones. You know what you are doing. Even when you feel lost and uncertain, you know what you are doing.

"Yet, after all of that, you and I, at the end of the day, we are merely people. Women. Human. We need a moment not to be told how spectacular we are and how amazing we are because we already know that. What we need is a moment to crumple down and be held and be allowed to simply be without anyone thinking lesser of us for it. We need a moment to fall apart so that when we get back up to continue taking care of things, we get back up stronger. We need a moment to scream in anger, to cry like a disgruntled child, to weep our hearts out, or even to laugh hysterically at the insanity around us. Then we compose ourselves, open the door, and return to being the, if you will excuse the expression, badasses we know ourselves to be.

"You have a lot of good things coming up. Things so amazing I cannot comprehend them! You deserve to be allowed to celebrate every second of it. I hope to help you celebrate some of it. However, it will be difficult to celebrate if you end up falling on your face from exhaustion or pent-up emotion in the middle of an important moment. It is possible to be so determined to have a good time that you end up thwarting yourself. How you go about avoiding this, I cannot tell you because we are very different people, I can only give you suggestions, but try to imagine the worries you have as luggage. You cannot get rid of it all in one go, but you can set it aside and rest, secure in the knowledge that you can pick it up again in a moment or so.

"I have never felt sorry for you, Daizi, darling. I want you to have these moments. That is why I worry for you. Because you have worked hard for these moments, suffered much, lost much, and hurt much. These moments are your rewards, and they are precious rewards!"
 
Her voice caught in her throat as she listened to her friend speak, gently squeezing Enkidu's fur in her hand as he sniffed at her face, just as worried about her as anyone else was. Daizi was his mama, too. "But that's the problem, Sally," she said, her throat tight and her face hot, "I cry all of the time. I'm so tired of crying. Dark knows, I talk to him, and he does his best. He's wonderful. He goes so far out of his way to spoil me. But I cry at everything, and I don't like it. I don't want to be that person. I never used to be and even though I'm sure I need it, I don't like being the one at family discussions to cry through them. I'm pretty sure the only one who cries more than me is Ivy. I thought it'd stop after I had her. Now I'm worried it's just who I am, now, and I hate it."
 
"Darling, you are never the same person after you become a mother, and you became a mother of three in very different ways," Sally said tenderly. "Your body and mind were completely pummeled over those months, and it is not surprising you are weeping so much. You are completely out of whack. If you truly feel you have lost yourself, though, and you are crying so much, have you considered that perhaps you might have postpartum depression that has never been fully dealt with? It can be a sneaky bastard, love. As much as I treasure that man of yours, perhaps it is not Dark you need to speak with. Consistently."
 
So many nights flashed through Daizi's mind. His hands on her back and in her hair, all the the gentle things he murmured to her, his careful suggestions as she dampened his chest. Dark had regularly suggested what Sally was, but he always stopped short of naming the condition.

"He told me I should go back to therapy," She said after a prolonged silence, "He never liked that I mostly stopped. But I, I've never wanted to hurt them. I've never wanted to---they make me happy. And it's been a year, I've had... time, I should be together again."
 
"Should you?" Sally repeated in a gentle, neutral tone. "Why should you? When it comes to the healing of body and mind, there is very little that 'should' be. Everyone has their own schedule, and everyone moves at their own speed. Perhaps you are merely taking a bit longer. You went through a lot both internal and external, and the desire to hurt the children might be the most popularly discussed symptom, but it is by no means the only one. I am no expert, but I think you should talk to someone who is in this instance."
 
"Wanting a large tattoo across your chest does not make it hurt any less or shorten the healing time," Sally pointed out. "Admitting that you are in pain and need a little help does not mean that you wanted the thing any less or that you regret it. It is simply what must happen. That is all. You can still love and enjoy the thing, but the pain will take away from that experience at least somewhat. Getting yourself help and allowing yourself to heal will allow you to enjoy the thing you wanted so much that much more."
 
Daizi blinked with her wide eyes turned upwards, not knowing how to respond to that. More than anything, she wanted to not need help. She hadn't been resistant of needing it for a very long time, but now it made her so angry, and it seemed petulant to express to herself how it just wasn't fair, but all she wanted was to be a good mother and wife and still be herself. Her husband still got to be himself, and sure, he didn't have to give birth, but she was pretty sure her body was healed. No part of her wanted to admit she couldn't just do it like she thought she should. She had so much support, too, it didn't even make sense. How many mothers had their husband bring them tea while she worked at home and he took care of the baby?

And what if she wasn't fixable?

"I didn't think it'd be like this," She said at last, her voice sounding distant.
 
"No one ever does, Daizi, Darling," Sally said soothingly. "You think you have it all, that everything is lined up just right, that you have so much more support than you ever thought you could use or need, and then it just does not turn out the way you expect. Sometimes it just does not feel fair, does it?"
 
"It's not fair to them," Daizi replied, "they deserve a mother who doesn't need to be coddled. And poor Ivy..." Her throat tightened again, "What are we going to tell her about what her first year was like? That people tried to have her taken away from us? And for the rest of the time...? She doesn't know, now, but... It's not fair to her."
 
Sally didn't say anything for a moment. "Daizi, I want you to pretend for just a moment that our roles are reversed. I want you to pretend that it is me coming to you with this and I say to you, 'I don't want to get help because that's being coddled, and my children deserve a mother who is not being coddled by getting the help she needs.' How would you react to that?"
 
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