Sunday, July 29, 2012
Is this it?
It's been a while. It's now almost August and I've been back to work for almost two months exactly. I guess you can say I'm in a routine now. It's become just life again. But I'm working non stop now because Ada is 4 and a half months old, and my work doesn't stop when I clock out for the day. I have to say I'm exhausted. I've never had so much to do all the time. Not to mention the awful bout of insomnia I've been battling for a month now. It all adds up to basically make me crazy. I'm running on fumes every day, and sometimes it's okay, and other times I feel like I should be locked up in a mental institution. I wish I were joking.
Ada is becoming such a little person. Nothing brings me more joy and laughter. I fall more in love with her every day. She is my constant, and the only tether I have to any form of sanity right now. If I couldn't count on seeing her big gummy smile saving me every day, I don't know what I'd do. Honestly. She is the greatest thing I could ever have imagined. And that's really important for me right now, because I sort of feel like everything else is falling apart. Some days she is the only thing that makes me happy.
I'm having a really tough time being happy right now, is the thing. And the constant not sleeping is making it 1,000 times worse. I keep finding myself coming back to the same phrase in my mind, over and over. That this isn't the life I wanted. And I don't mean having a family - that is the thing I wanted all along. It's the being a working mom. Constantly having a running list of to-do's that I know I'll never catch up with. But that list keeps me from fully enjoying and focusing on the few precious hours of the day that I do have with my daughter during the week. I don't know. I pictured it differently in my mind before she was born. I was sure I'd be the type of person who would be fine wih working full time and being a mom. But I'm not. I'm not doing very well with it. I'm overwhelmed with guilt and chores. The fact that there is never enough time on the day suffocates me. I kind of hate it. And add to that the feeling of utter failure and weakness of being the one woman in this country who just can't handle a job AND a baby. I used to love working. Now I resent every minute of it for robbing me of so much time with my rapidly growing baby. And severely diminishing the quality of the time I do have with her. But I absolutely have no option of not working because our money situation is so bad and we have so much debt. I've never felt so trapped and smothered and hopeless. It's really no wonder I can't sleep anymore.
I don't really know what to do. I am honestly taken aback by the complete and total rage I feel sometimes. And the resentment. The guilt. The envy of everyone who doesn't have to feel this every day. I need to see a therapist on my own. Ryan and I still need to see a therapist together to try and fix our issues in our marriage. But chalk that up to another of the many things we need but can't afford. I feel like everything is going to go to shit before we can. I've honestly just never felt this awful. And I don't know how it's going to change. Because as I said, this isn't the life I wanted. Some days I can do okay. But a lot of days re really really horrible, and I can't lift a finger out from under the weight of all I feel. I'm totally in over my head and I don't think I can dig myself out of this one.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
12 Weeks My Arse
This is my last week of maternity leave. It's already Wednesday. I woke up this morning at 5:05, and felt pretty certain that I will now be awake until next Monday when I go back to work. Forget about turning off my brain long enough to get any rest before then. I am leaving my three month old daughter in the care of OTHER PEOPLE 40 hours per week. How many freaking hours are in a week anyways? Please hold while I consult my calculator because I am mathematically challenged. ::pleasant hold music::
168. 168 hours in a week. 40 of which will be in daycare. Approximately 63 hours spent sleeping, because my baby is an awesome sleeper, and sleeps more than I did during years 13 through 18. Which leaves me with 65 hours with my baby each week. Does this seem unfair, ridiculous, cruel, impractical, and any millions of other possible negative adjectives which fit this scenario, to anyone else? She's a baby. I'm a baby. We need each other.
I joke, but I'm seriously about to have a nervous breakdown. I don't know if I can do this. I can't even think about it for more than 5 minutes without getting tightness in my chest and racing thoughts, and a horrible lump in my throat. What am I going to do? I think it's horrible that mothers have to leave their tiny babies so early in this country to go back to work. And I'm extremely resentful about it right now. But I suppose that is for another post.
It is breaking my heart. For three months I have been at her side nearly every moment. I'm watching her grow and learn new things and get smarter and funnier and more affectionate and coordinated every day. How the hell am I supposed to just leave all of that to someone else all day long now? She's going to do so many things for the first time under someone else's care. I'm jealous. I'm hurt. I'm guilty. I'm completely unprepared. I think this might kill me. Is she going to feel completely abandoned all day and miss me terribly? Is she going to not miss me at all eventually? Which one will hurt worse? I don't even know. But what I do know is that out of my entire life, these last three months have been the most important, and the most meaningful, and now I feel like I'm going to voluntarily fail at my job as a mother, which I think is the most important job in the entire world. How can I not, when I'm only getting one more day a week with my child than someone else is, when all the hours are totaled up? I don't know if I've ever felt so low about anything in my life.
I know that eventually I'm going to adjust and this is going to become my normal routine. But I want to go on record that I hate that. I don't think it's natural, and I don't think it's even remotely right. All it means is that I'm going to adapt to being a little bit colder and harder, and allow this switching off of my emotional need for constant contact with my baby to become automatic. It sucks. And a world which requires me to do that sucks.
I admit that there are times during the day when my very demanding and high maintenance daughter will scream and cry no matter what I do, because she needs constant stimulation, and I have the thought, "I'm going back to work next week!!!!" rather joyously. But that only lasts about 10 minutes. I will admit that there is a part of me that is looking forward to getting back into the working game. I have friends there, and I enjoy my job. But it's just that all of these other emotions are outweighing those things. It doesn't mean they aren't there, but they're being trumped by motherhood. I will find enjoyment in going to work again eventually, but I just don't think I'll ever feel completely at ease with it again. Everything has changed. Everything. I'm so different than I was three months ago. And in a couple of years I'm going to get to do this all over again!
Hopefully. :)
168. 168 hours in a week. 40 of which will be in daycare. Approximately 63 hours spent sleeping, because my baby is an awesome sleeper, and sleeps more than I did during years 13 through 18. Which leaves me with 65 hours with my baby each week. Does this seem unfair, ridiculous, cruel, impractical, and any millions of other possible negative adjectives which fit this scenario, to anyone else? She's a baby. I'm a baby. We need each other.
I joke, but I'm seriously about to have a nervous breakdown. I don't know if I can do this. I can't even think about it for more than 5 minutes without getting tightness in my chest and racing thoughts, and a horrible lump in my throat. What am I going to do? I think it's horrible that mothers have to leave their tiny babies so early in this country to go back to work. And I'm extremely resentful about it right now. But I suppose that is for another post.
It is breaking my heart. For three months I have been at her side nearly every moment. I'm watching her grow and learn new things and get smarter and funnier and more affectionate and coordinated every day. How the hell am I supposed to just leave all of that to someone else all day long now? She's going to do so many things for the first time under someone else's care. I'm jealous. I'm hurt. I'm guilty. I'm completely unprepared. I think this might kill me. Is she going to feel completely abandoned all day and miss me terribly? Is she going to not miss me at all eventually? Which one will hurt worse? I don't even know. But what I do know is that out of my entire life, these last three months have been the most important, and the most meaningful, and now I feel like I'm going to voluntarily fail at my job as a mother, which I think is the most important job in the entire world. How can I not, when I'm only getting one more day a week with my child than someone else is, when all the hours are totaled up? I don't know if I've ever felt so low about anything in my life.
I know that eventually I'm going to adjust and this is going to become my normal routine. But I want to go on record that I hate that. I don't think it's natural, and I don't think it's even remotely right. All it means is that I'm going to adapt to being a little bit colder and harder, and allow this switching off of my emotional need for constant contact with my baby to become automatic. It sucks. And a world which requires me to do that sucks.
I admit that there are times during the day when my very demanding and high maintenance daughter will scream and cry no matter what I do, because she needs constant stimulation, and I have the thought, "I'm going back to work next week!!!!" rather joyously. But that only lasts about 10 minutes. I will admit that there is a part of me that is looking forward to getting back into the working game. I have friends there, and I enjoy my job. But it's just that all of these other emotions are outweighing those things. It doesn't mean they aren't there, but they're being trumped by motherhood. I will find enjoyment in going to work again eventually, but I just don't think I'll ever feel completely at ease with it again. Everything has changed. Everything. I'm so different than I was three months ago. And in a couple of years I'm going to get to do this all over again!
Hopefully. :)
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Ada
Ada is here. She has been here for three weeks. Born March 12th at 1:24 a.m. She is perfect. She is beautiful and bright and incredibly smart already. I suppose every parent says that, but I swear on all that is holy it's true. She started smiling at me when she was 10 days old. She is now three weeks and one day old, and she's starting to make noises and get super excited when I talk to her. And when she smiles up at me with all those gums, kicking her legs and balling her tiny hands into fists with so much effort to talk back to me, most of the time I cry a little bit. I've never felt anything like that. And she's getting more responsive every day. You may not believe me, but it's absolutely true. She has some crazy level of understanding and ability to communicate, and when she looks at me, I've never felt so naked in every single facet of my being. Those eyes are like nothing I have ever experienced.
The first two weeks were an adjustment like I've never ever had to work through before. And don't get me wrong - I'm still adjusting every day. But the difference is, during the first two weeks I cried and cried for my old life, my old routines, my old freedom, and I constantly wondered - silently and aloud - just WTF I was thinking. How could I think that I would be able to do this? So, so much regret. And it was hard some days to get up and take care of her. I know this is common for new moms, but damn that horrible darkness I felt some days. And now, a day into week three, something seems to have changed. I still have moments where I get overwhelmed, and I need to get away for a few moments. But basically, I feel capable, I feel calm, and there is this absolutely incredible love growing inside of me for this little creature that I'm starting to just sit in awe of, and be totally amazed. I was so scared I wasn't going to develop it in those first two weeks. But it's starting to completely take me over. And there are now an increasing number of moments throughout the day where I look down at her, and I am more excited than I have ever been in my entire life that we have so much ahead of us. She is already bigger. She's already more beautiful. She's already changing so much. I don't want to take a single moment for granted.
She is teaching me. I am learning from her. Sometimes it's really challenging to be alone with her all day long while Ryan works, and then have other challenges when he is home. But part of the reason I'm feeling so much more comfortable recently is BECAUSE I have been spending so much time with her. I'm learning about her - her personality, what she likes and doesn't like, what calms her and what makes her more upset, how she likes to be held, and what she's trying to tell me with her body language. I'm by no means a pro at this yet. I'm just learning. But I feel like I'm getting to know her so much more lately. And it makes me want to care for her all the more. She's so tiny, and she's been thrust into this strange, loud, scary world outside of me. The moment I hear her whimper or cry, I want to be there. I want her to know that I will always be there just as soon as she needs me. I feel that especially right now, in these early weeks and months, we are laying a foundation for our relationship with her, and how she feels with us. I was so scared that I was royally effing that up in the first couple of weeks. But now, I am developing such a drive to make sure that I am there. That's all, really. Just so she knows I'm there for her. She comes first. No matter what else I have going on at any given second, she is the most important. I think she can tell the difference. I feel it from the very core of my being when we are looking at each other. There is such an understanding, and it's the most moving thing that I've ever felt. I just can't put it into words, even though I keep trying and trying.
The first two weeks were an adjustment like I've never ever had to work through before. And don't get me wrong - I'm still adjusting every day. But the difference is, during the first two weeks I cried and cried for my old life, my old routines, my old freedom, and I constantly wondered - silently and aloud - just WTF I was thinking. How could I think that I would be able to do this? So, so much regret. And it was hard some days to get up and take care of her. I know this is common for new moms, but damn that horrible darkness I felt some days. And now, a day into week three, something seems to have changed. I still have moments where I get overwhelmed, and I need to get away for a few moments. But basically, I feel capable, I feel calm, and there is this absolutely incredible love growing inside of me for this little creature that I'm starting to just sit in awe of, and be totally amazed. I was so scared I wasn't going to develop it in those first two weeks. But it's starting to completely take me over. And there are now an increasing number of moments throughout the day where I look down at her, and I am more excited than I have ever been in my entire life that we have so much ahead of us. She is already bigger. She's already more beautiful. She's already changing so much. I don't want to take a single moment for granted.
She is teaching me. I am learning from her. Sometimes it's really challenging to be alone with her all day long while Ryan works, and then have other challenges when he is home. But part of the reason I'm feeling so much more comfortable recently is BECAUSE I have been spending so much time with her. I'm learning about her - her personality, what she likes and doesn't like, what calms her and what makes her more upset, how she likes to be held, and what she's trying to tell me with her body language. I'm by no means a pro at this yet. I'm just learning. But I feel like I'm getting to know her so much more lately. And it makes me want to care for her all the more. She's so tiny, and she's been thrust into this strange, loud, scary world outside of me. The moment I hear her whimper or cry, I want to be there. I want her to know that I will always be there just as soon as she needs me. I feel that especially right now, in these early weeks and months, we are laying a foundation for our relationship with her, and how she feels with us. I was so scared that I was royally effing that up in the first couple of weeks. But now, I am developing such a drive to make sure that I am there. That's all, really. Just so she knows I'm there for her. She comes first. No matter what else I have going on at any given second, she is the most important. I think she can tell the difference. I feel it from the very core of my being when we are looking at each other. There is such an understanding, and it's the most moving thing that I've ever felt. I just can't put it into words, even though I keep trying and trying.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
About Today
Today as I was driving to work, another car pulled out of a CVS right in front of me, even though there was nobody behind me. Waiting that extra 2.7 seconds to make his turn was going to send this guy over the edge, apparently. No more than a minute later, I watched yet another car do the same thing to the guy who did it to me. And then, you guessed it, yet still another car, pulling the same tired rabbit out of the same tired magic hat, cut off that car. While it was becoming a slightly amusing, if not moderately irritating chain of karmic justice (which almost never happens, in my experience), all I could really ponder is this one question: When did everyone become so freaking entitled? Also, as a side note, the stereotype about people in the Midwest could not be more inaccurate. I honestly think that some of the biggest assholes in the entire world are centralized right here in the good ol' "Heart of America".
It's not like I don't witness approximately 27 acts of vehicular retardation and/or asshole-osis every day during my trips to work and home. But today it just really got under my skin that nobody really truly gives a crap about anyone else anymore. Nobody cares about being courteous or patient, and everyone just thinks they don't have to act in any way that won't fulfill their immediate selfish needs. Rules don't apply to me. I want what I want, and if you're an obstacle to me getting what I want exactly when I want it, you're just going to have to be bowled over. And I will never consider how that makes you feel. Ever. And yet they're the same people who will be completely flabbergasted when someone does the same thing to them. It's so unjust! Nobody has the right to treat me this way! What do you mean I just did the same thing to you?! Does not compute! It's called the Golden Rule. Heard of it? You can't expect to be treated with respect and acceptance if you're not willing to behave this way to others. Sometimes you actually have to put yourself aside to give someone else the treatment they deserve. I know. How awful. Me, me, me. Cry. You have no right to not to treat me like royalty just because I don't find you important enough to be considerate of! Mehhhhhhh.
I really have nowhere to go with this. I'm just feeling like people are becoming more and more despicable these days. And they don't even care. I'm also cranky 89% of the time now, because I'm 9 months pregnant and there's a little person stealing my entire body from me and making my pelvic region feel like it's been pinned under a Mack Truck for 12 days. Yet somehow I can still "muster up the energy" to be considerate of other people. Funny that.
Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day.
It's not like I don't witness approximately 27 acts of vehicular retardation and/or asshole-osis every day during my trips to work and home. But today it just really got under my skin that nobody really truly gives a crap about anyone else anymore. Nobody cares about being courteous or patient, and everyone just thinks they don't have to act in any way that won't fulfill their immediate selfish needs. Rules don't apply to me. I want what I want, and if you're an obstacle to me getting what I want exactly when I want it, you're just going to have to be bowled over. And I will never consider how that makes you feel. Ever. And yet they're the same people who will be completely flabbergasted when someone does the same thing to them. It's so unjust! Nobody has the right to treat me this way! What do you mean I just did the same thing to you?! Does not compute! It's called the Golden Rule. Heard of it? You can't expect to be treated with respect and acceptance if you're not willing to behave this way to others. Sometimes you actually have to put yourself aside to give someone else the treatment they deserve. I know. How awful. Me, me, me. Cry. You have no right to not to treat me like royalty just because I don't find you important enough to be considerate of! Mehhhhhhh.
I really have nowhere to go with this. I'm just feeling like people are becoming more and more despicable these days. And they don't even care. I'm also cranky 89% of the time now, because I'm 9 months pregnant and there's a little person stealing my entire body from me and making my pelvic region feel like it's been pinned under a Mack Truck for 12 days. Yet somehow I can still "muster up the energy" to be considerate of other people. Funny that.
Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
A month?
Remember when I said 9 weeks? How about 4.5 weeks?
I'm finding that I'm becoming less fearful, and more anxious, however. Until the first real contraction I feel, I'm sure. Then I will be all fear again. But right now, I'm feeling ready. Not just because I can't sleep anyways. Because I just want to do this. Sometimes I feel like I should step back for a second and really take in these last few weeks of the life that Ryan and I have grown so accustomed to, because it will never be like this again. But I can't even do it whole-heartedly, because I'm so distracted by everything. Also, I think that part of it makes me a little sad, even though I know it's for a greater good. And I don't need yet another thing to make me unnecessarily sad.
My baby shower happened this past weekend. I am so grateful to my friends and family for their generosity. We got so much amazing stuff. There is so incredibly much LESS that we have to find the money to buy ourselves now, and that is a huge relief. I'm having so much fun sorting through everything and getting it organized for when Ada arrives. It's still hard to believe, looking at some of these ridiculously adorable tiny outfits, that there is going to be an actual baby in them in a few weeks. MY baby! It's one of those things that I know, but can't quite grasp. It's hard to imagine. I've seen her perfect little face in a perfect little 3D picture, but I still can't imagine her, somehow.
My baby shower was nice because I got to spend some time with my Kentucky family again - I've been missing them so much since our visit right before Christmas. And I got to see a very good friend whom I haven't seen in a long time. We had a wonderful time catching up, and it was like we never missed a day. I'm grateful for friends like that. You come to find how rare they actually are. But I am lucky enough to have found more than one. And then there are the ones you realize that you are just never going to be able to have a relationship with again. There were two people this weekend I sadly realized it's just never going to work with. When you can't even put yourself aside for a few hours to celebrate such an enormous occurrence in my life, I know that there's nothing else to say. And I wish that there weren't those couple of things to spoil an otherwise amazing weekend, but it's just life. I'd prefer to focus on the good parts of the weekend, which were plentiful.
I'm off to the doctor's this morning, and thus will begin weekly visits for me. I know this little girl needs another week and a half before she would be deemed okay to greet the world, and I can certainly wait it out for her. But I have to say, I kind of wish that as soon as I hit that 37 week mark, things start happening to get this process going. I'm growing more anxious as the days go by! Also, I want to know an estimate of how big she is, because I'm kind of starting to obsess about it. Surprise!
I'm finding that I'm becoming less fearful, and more anxious, however. Until the first real contraction I feel, I'm sure. Then I will be all fear again. But right now, I'm feeling ready. Not just because I can't sleep anyways. Because I just want to do this. Sometimes I feel like I should step back for a second and really take in these last few weeks of the life that Ryan and I have grown so accustomed to, because it will never be like this again. But I can't even do it whole-heartedly, because I'm so distracted by everything. Also, I think that part of it makes me a little sad, even though I know it's for a greater good. And I don't need yet another thing to make me unnecessarily sad.
My baby shower happened this past weekend. I am so grateful to my friends and family for their generosity. We got so much amazing stuff. There is so incredibly much LESS that we have to find the money to buy ourselves now, and that is a huge relief. I'm having so much fun sorting through everything and getting it organized for when Ada arrives. It's still hard to believe, looking at some of these ridiculously adorable tiny outfits, that there is going to be an actual baby in them in a few weeks. MY baby! It's one of those things that I know, but can't quite grasp. It's hard to imagine. I've seen her perfect little face in a perfect little 3D picture, but I still can't imagine her, somehow.
My baby shower was nice because I got to spend some time with my Kentucky family again - I've been missing them so much since our visit right before Christmas. And I got to see a very good friend whom I haven't seen in a long time. We had a wonderful time catching up, and it was like we never missed a day. I'm grateful for friends like that. You come to find how rare they actually are. But I am lucky enough to have found more than one. And then there are the ones you realize that you are just never going to be able to have a relationship with again. There were two people this weekend I sadly realized it's just never going to work with. When you can't even put yourself aside for a few hours to celebrate such an enormous occurrence in my life, I know that there's nothing else to say. And I wish that there weren't those couple of things to spoil an otherwise amazing weekend, but it's just life. I'd prefer to focus on the good parts of the weekend, which were plentiful.
I'm off to the doctor's this morning, and thus will begin weekly visits for me. I know this little girl needs another week and a half before she would be deemed okay to greet the world, and I can certainly wait it out for her. But I have to say, I kind of wish that as soon as I hit that 37 week mark, things start happening to get this process going. I'm growing more anxious as the days go by! Also, I want to know an estimate of how big she is, because I'm kind of starting to obsess about it. Surprise!
Thursday, January 5, 2012
9 Weeks
Nine weeks. Nine. I keep saying that to myself over and over, like some kind of temporary mantra. The more I say it, the scarier it becomes. Sometimes you say words over and over in your head and they end up sounding like nonsense. They lose their meaning. Not this. I keep saying "nine weeks" and feeling like I might throw up.
I know I've told people that my pregnancy almost didn't seem real until I started feeling the baby move. But I'm taking that back. It hasn't seemed all that real until now. In fact, the reality of the situation is all of the sudden crashing down on me, and I'm really really trying to keep my shit together, but I'm becoming a little unraveled inside, and it's increasingly challenging to hide that. As if I wasn't freaking out unnecessarily about little things before, now I really am. I know I seem like a crazy person sometimes, but at this point all I can do is say "I know, and I'm sorry". Because there will be nine more weeks of it. Give or take.
I've been a procrastinator my entire life. I can't say if I've been procrastinating about the things I need to get done before the baby arrives, because this is my first time, and I'm kind of feeling lost. I don't really know if I've been keeping on a good timeline or not. What I can say, is I feel totally and utterly disorganized. I may put things off for longer than I should, but I always have a game plan. I can be a little OCD about the order in which I carry out a process to make sure it's right. But I'm in unfamiliar territory here, and I feel like there are 10,000 balls in the air, and I can't even pretend that I'm going to be able to catch even half of them. As I'm trying the best I can to make some sort of sense and coherent list of projects that I need to focus on, I keep freaking out about the fact that I don't and can't really know when I'll actually go into labor either. What if it's early? What if I go in the middle of February, and I have absolutely NOTHING prepared? This is just one of the hundreds of things working in close partnership with my increasing hip pain to keep me up all night long. Every night. Because just in the rare and unlikely case that my baby ends up being an awesome sleeper, we need to make sure that I have to combat some period of sleep deprivation. It's the law of mothers, right?
Sometimes I feel like I'm an oven burn. You know when you reach into the oven to pull out your casserole dish, and your hand hits the top, and you get super angry? Well, then for the next couple of days, even the air rushing over top of that burn feels like sandpaper being raked across it. Every little tiny thing that would normally just make me roll my eyes or shrug my shoulders is sending me into a tizzy. Sometimes I go in the bathroom and cry for a few minutes over the stupidest things. This combination of hormones, stress, and 1,000 fears has turned me into a metaphorical oven burn.
I am looking forward to getting the labor and delivery over with, however, because the following things I've taken for granted for so long are like little nuggets of Heaven encrusted in diamonds and motivating me past my terror of pushing an 8 pound baby out of my vag, because I know they await me shortly-ish thereafter:
1. Sleeping on my stomach
2. Being able to walk for more than 10 minutes without feeling like one of my old Barbies whose leg would pop off randomly at the hip.
3. Maybe even taking a jog! At least starting the slow process of getting my body into good condition again and feeling strong.
4. Vigorous and exciting sex in positions all the colors of the rainbow, and maybe even putting on a corset once in a while again, for god's sake.
5. Wine. More wine. Sharing bottles of wine with my husband over dinner. Also, my boyfriend on the side, Samuel Adams.
6. Bending over to pick something up or moving something heavier than a piece of paper without everyone around me looking on in horror as if I'm committing suicide/murder right in front of them and screeching at me.
7. Not feeling crazy.
I know I've told people that my pregnancy almost didn't seem real until I started feeling the baby move. But I'm taking that back. It hasn't seemed all that real until now. In fact, the reality of the situation is all of the sudden crashing down on me, and I'm really really trying to keep my shit together, but I'm becoming a little unraveled inside, and it's increasingly challenging to hide that. As if I wasn't freaking out unnecessarily about little things before, now I really am. I know I seem like a crazy person sometimes, but at this point all I can do is say "I know, and I'm sorry". Because there will be nine more weeks of it. Give or take.
I've been a procrastinator my entire life. I can't say if I've been procrastinating about the things I need to get done before the baby arrives, because this is my first time, and I'm kind of feeling lost. I don't really know if I've been keeping on a good timeline or not. What I can say, is I feel totally and utterly disorganized. I may put things off for longer than I should, but I always have a game plan. I can be a little OCD about the order in which I carry out a process to make sure it's right. But I'm in unfamiliar territory here, and I feel like there are 10,000 balls in the air, and I can't even pretend that I'm going to be able to catch even half of them. As I'm trying the best I can to make some sort of sense and coherent list of projects that I need to focus on, I keep freaking out about the fact that I don't and can't really know when I'll actually go into labor either. What if it's early? What if I go in the middle of February, and I have absolutely NOTHING prepared? This is just one of the hundreds of things working in close partnership with my increasing hip pain to keep me up all night long. Every night. Because just in the rare and unlikely case that my baby ends up being an awesome sleeper, we need to make sure that I have to combat some period of sleep deprivation. It's the law of mothers, right?
Sometimes I feel like I'm an oven burn. You know when you reach into the oven to pull out your casserole dish, and your hand hits the top, and you get super angry? Well, then for the next couple of days, even the air rushing over top of that burn feels like sandpaper being raked across it. Every little tiny thing that would normally just make me roll my eyes or shrug my shoulders is sending me into a tizzy. Sometimes I go in the bathroom and cry for a few minutes over the stupidest things. This combination of hormones, stress, and 1,000 fears has turned me into a metaphorical oven burn.
I am looking forward to getting the labor and delivery over with, however, because the following things I've taken for granted for so long are like little nuggets of Heaven encrusted in diamonds and motivating me past my terror of pushing an 8 pound baby out of my vag, because I know they await me shortly-ish thereafter:
1. Sleeping on my stomach
2. Being able to walk for more than 10 minutes without feeling like one of my old Barbies whose leg would pop off randomly at the hip.
3. Maybe even taking a jog! At least starting the slow process of getting my body into good condition again and feeling strong.
4. Vigorous and exciting sex in positions all the colors of the rainbow, and maybe even putting on a corset once in a while again, for god's sake.
5. Wine. More wine. Sharing bottles of wine with my husband over dinner. Also, my boyfriend on the side, Samuel Adams.
6. Bending over to pick something up or moving something heavier than a piece of paper without everyone around me looking on in horror as if I'm committing suicide/murder right in front of them and screeching at me.
7. Not feeling crazy.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Really, right now?
Apparently I only post now when I'm feeling negatively. I promise I'll try to change that sometime in the future. But right now I need an outlet. And this seems to be all I've got.
It's 3 days before Christmas, and I'm in a horrible place mentally. Yesterday I had so many mood swings I thought I might actually be going insane. Mostly I just feel sad. For a few reasons. A couple I know are legitimate, and others I don't know if I'm just making worse than it really is. Either way, the result is the same.
I'm sad because I used to love Christmas so, so much. And I can't feel anything at all about it anymore. Everyone is so negative this time of year. My husband hates the holidays, and over the years it's successfully worn me down to feeling more anxiety over the thing I used to look so forward to than anything else. I miss the way I used to feel this time of year. I miss it more than I can say. Things aren't the same at Christmas anymore either. The traditional family gatherings I grew up with, which made me feel so good, have changed dramatically because of time. My great aunts and uncle are in their 80's now, and we celebrate without two of them because of Alzheimers. They were always like extra grandparents to me. And so much of my childhood was spent over Jo-Jo's house because my dad was constantly playing shows with his band and my mom would go to watch. And now instead of us all gathering at her house with her amazing cooking for the holidays, we bring her leftovers, and I spend more time wondering if this is the last year any of them will even be here, instead of letting this be a time of thanks and unity. There is just more of a thick layer of sadness and foreboding hanging over all the things that used to bring me so much happiness this time of year. I have nobody to share in the joy I used to get from all of this, nobody to keep me up.
I feel sad because I just got back from a 3 and a half day visit to all my family in Kentucky, and I sort of feel like I could have been gone a week or two more, and it would be all the same. I missed Ryan so much - so much that I spent a lot of the drive down there feeling apprehensive. I constantly restrained myself from calling or texting too much, as not to seem like a nuisance. And when I got back I guess I had envisioned more of a homecoming than there was. Granted there are some things going on right now in his family as well which are casting some tough shadows over everything. I guess I just feel like it would take a lot more than I'd hoped to be missed. It's sort of like I don't feel as necessary as I wanted to.
I feel sad because part of me wishes I was still in Kentucky. I realized how incredibly long it's been since I've seen that family, and it was just so satisfying. All my cousins are so, so much older, and I'm so sad that I've missed so much. I don't want to keep missing these large chunks of time, and it's so hard to live so far away. These are some of my absolute favorite people in the entire world, and I've allowed for such a distance to form between us, that I regret so much. My 5 year old cousin Aaron went through an entire bout with cancer, treatment and recovery, and I didn't actually see him during any of it. And those kids didn't even know me when I went to visit because I haven't seen them since they were babies. But within no time at all, they were like my best buddies, and I was so moved by it. I couldn't stop looking at Aaron and thinking that I almost never got to know him. He's amazing, and there's something so incredibly special about him. There's some lesson that is just begging to be acknowledged every second you spend with him, and though I could probably pick out the main points of it, there is more that I just can't quite get in my grasp, and I just want to be around him all the time. I know that just his presence is reminding me of something really really important in life. I sort of felt like that the entire visit. Just that it is far too easy to allow yourself to forget the importance of cherishing and nourishing the people who mean the most to you, no matter how inconvenient it might be sometimes. And that's where I feel sad that I have allowed inconvenience to trump importance. Time doesn't slow down just because you don't balance things correctly.
I wish that I didn't feel this way right now. And I know that there are some things I'm just feeling sorry for myself about. I've been harping on the fact that I'm 7 months pregnant and working full time, tired all the time, blah blah blah, stuff that millions of pregnant women do all across the world. I certainly don't have it any harder. But I still feel overwhelmed sometimes, and I wish that I didn't have to ask for that to be considered sometimes. My threshold for stress is not currently what it used to be, and I feel like I'm going to crack a lot easier than I ever would have before. So things keep piling up on me, and I can't handle it effectively right now, and then I get judged for the way I react to it. And I know that not everyone understands how overwhelming things are to me right now, but it's just another thing that's making me feel so out of control right now. I just want a break. I'm going to have a newborn baby in less than 3 months, and there will be no breaks after that. I just want one now.
I want to feel happy about the fact that it's Christmas, and for once I've managed to spend important time with ALL of my family. I want to stop whining about it and actually take control of how I'm feeling. But there's this little thing inside me, and she's already so damned demanding.... :)
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