I don’t like change at all.
I live in a perpetual state of nostalgia for whatever used to be, always worrying that the now is never going to compare to what has passed, always fearing that I will never be as happy in the future.
I hated moving to Curacao, and I hated moving back to Canada. I didn’t want to leave my high school, and sobbed like a baby in my mother’s arms the night before I started university. I loved my university so much that I still miss it, so I sobbed and then suffered depression when I graduated from it. I even found it difficult to leave a job I hated when I got my dream job.
The only transitions I never found difficult involved being with Perfect Husband. Practically from the moment we agreed to date, we were talking about moving in together. He waited a year to propose, but that was more out of propriety than any kind of insecurity on his part. I was afraid of moving to BC, but I was so happy just to be with him that I piled my stuff into my car and drove across the country with him happily. I would change continents with him in a heart beat. I was so happy on my wedding day that I was shaking in nervousness, but not frightened.
But all the rest of change – terrifying.
Now I’m about to have my life get turned upside down. OUR life turned upside down. FOREVER.
And I’m freaking out.
Why on Earth did I ever allow myself to conceive a child? I mean, sure, I’ve been broody since I was 16 and fell in love with my baby-think-it-over. I loved caring for a baby robot, but so what? Sure, I’ve been mentally explaining things like boiling water and how brakes work to my imaginary future children for decades. Sure, the whole time PH and I were on our honeymoon we were thinking how much we wanted to bring our kids back there with us some day. Sure, I nearly cried when holding a coworker’s newborn baby last year.
But why did I think any of that meant I was ready for a baby?? I should have left well enough alone. Holy crap, what have I done??
Dear Therapist Student Lady,
You’re very nice, but I don’t fully understand how it is helpful for you to poke and poke at sensitive topics until I start to cry, only to stop and initiate deep breathing exercises to calm me down, and then repeat the process. How does this get us anywhere? I admit that the deep breathing exercises do help calm me down when I am struggling against tears, but I’m not sure they’ll be helpful against the depression in general because we never seem to get that far.
I’m trying to be open minded to your strategies, but if I hear you talking about mindfulness one more time, I might lose my patience with you. It’s not that I don’t know that I am sad, or why I am sad, or in what way I am sad. It’s just that I don’t know how to answer questions like “and this sadness… how does it feel in your body?” or “and what do you feel, when you are sad?”
Nor do I understand how I can take the tension from my leg muscles and let it float away on brown leaves in a stream. I’ve never seen plant life that could do that. But I didn’t ask because we were already an hour overtime and the last thing I wanted to do was to send you off on another tangent. As it is, the fire alarm went off and even that didn’t make you stop talking about being mindful of the body. Also, when you tell me to take the thoughts that drift through my mind and add them to these same leaves, is it okay that “this is bull shit” is part of the thought-detritus that this stream is supposed to be washing away?
I’m trying, I really am.
But I’m finding you trying, too.
P.S. It’s really hard to breathe from the diaphragm when it’s being crushed up under my lungs.
Results of the 37 week OB appointment today:
Positive for Group B Strep, which means I have to drop everything and go get penicillin if my water breaks, which means that I’ll probably have all of my natural flora wiped out by the antibiotics, which means I’ll probably have problems with mastitis and thrush and breast feeding will be hell (I know you all appreciate my sunny and positive outlook on life – don’t try to deny it!).
I am officially out of torso. I have always been a stubby little body on out-of-proportion legs, with my hips starting pretty much right below my rib cage. I am now “all baby” according to the OB, which explains why he is moving around less vigorously recently. Don’t worry, he’s fine – he FLIPPED OUT at his father’s opening night on Thursday, when all the actors started shouting, and there were death threats being bellowed everywhere. He tried to claw his way right out of my uterus (to hell with “birth”) and I ended up instinctively wrapping my arms around him protectively until things calmed down. It occurs to me that he had never heard raised voices before. Ever. So anyway, he’s still in there and he’s fine; he’s just getting cramped. The heartburn and inability to breathe lying down confirm this theory.
I am so puffy that the OB noticed it just while measuring my belly. She poked at my stomach and said “I can tell your wife is retaining a lot of water,” to Perfect Husband. I went on to moan to her about the inability to bend my knees, fit into shoes, or look attractive. She nodded, and said “your chart says you have gained 12 pounds in the last two or three weeks. You gained five in the last seven days. That’s just not possible. That isn’t WEIGHT. That’s water. Your blood pressure is good – 122/68, so there’s nothing to worry about. You’ll drop the fluid when the baby is born.”
The inexplicable rash is finally gone. This actually didn’t get discussed, but it’s the first time my OB has lifted up my shirt without looking concerned and saying “does that itch?” so I think it’s official. I can still see where it was, but it is just a mark, now, like the stretch marks around it. It only took several months of anti-fungals to shift the dang thing!
And… that’s about all my news.
tl;dr: I’m a waterballoon crawling with group B streptococcus, but it’s okay, because Babby is fine, and has already shown an introverted disposition.
Also, I think Perfect Husband is starting to get jumpy. I sent him a casual text message a good hour before his play started yesterday, and nearly gave him heart failure.
Had to go to a wedding today. Thankfully, my dressy black skirt is elastic waisted, so I could wear it despite 36+ weeks of pregnancy. Also thankfully, while I knew that my feet were too swollen for my normal dress shoes, I also had found a pair of too-big mary janes that Perfect Husband had bought for me over the internet once (size eight my ass, they fit like size nines). So I had this pair of shoes which were a size too big for me that I knew I could wear to the wedding.
We got ready to go, I got out the shoes and… they were too small. I crammed my feet into the big shoes and felt the straps and heels dig in. I tottered to the wedding anyway, but when I got home I had blisters on my heels and deep lines cut into the tops of my feet.
Seriously need to talk to the OB about this edema. Should my previously-saggy, casual socks be leaving deep lines in my flesh? I am drinking like a fish, but my legs are swollen and shiny and my watch digs deep into my wrist.
PH is worried. I’m mostly just annoyed.
…’Til my Mommy arrives.
I think I’m more excited for that than for Babby’s birth. Maybe because Babby’s birth is filled with things I don’t like – pain, and worse, CHANGE.
Meanwhile I know exactly what it will be like having my Mum here – she’ll clean the house we just cleaned before she arrived, she’ll tsk tsk over things, she’ll take over in the kitchen, she’ll make us twitch by talking about Wikipedia’s liberal bias or why Stephen Harper is the new Christ figure (still can’t figure out why the woman who raised me to be left wing turned right wing in her retirement), and she’ll immediately buckle down to dealing with everything that bothers me. I’ll fight and fume and then lay back and let her take care of everything, like when I was little.
Like I said… I can’t wait.
Perfect Husband hates my therapist because she makes me cry. He keeps threatening to “kick her inna box”.
But it’s not like she pokes me with sticks. She just brings up those words – those words that you avoid saying because they make you cry.
She got me to read The Power of Now, and it says that true peace is found in acceptance of the Now. Which means I need to accept that I’m far from home, that my baby shower only had five attendees and four gifts, and that money is very tight because I got laid off and so stopped working a good three months earlier than we had budgeted before I got pregnant.
I need to accept these things so I can truly enjoy the good things – the generosity of people who have given me handmedowns ranging from exersaucers to breast pumps, from baby gyms to baby clothes. The support of friends willing to give up a precious day off to paint my nursery for me. Loving cousins who send me more than enough money to cover the expense incurred by the painting of said room. The fact that someone DID throw me a shower, with balloons and punch and food (most of which sadly went uneaten as it was vastly above and beyond the number of people who decided to show up) and shower games. That one of the guests spent three hours decorating an amazingly beautiful cake, with my future child’s name written in icing. That someone who has barely known me for a year or so went to the trouble of making an intricate cross-stitch -framed- with my son’s name on it, and a blank space for her to embroider his birth day and weight when he is born.
So amazing, so touching. The kindness of people. I try to focus on that, but trying to push away the other feelings just doesn’t work. the more you push them away, the more determined they become.
Like a cat.
I need to welcome those bad feelings, accept them, and so let them go.
But that’s dang hard, you know?
I love my friends. This is the room I always dreamed of. Better, because of the light fixture.
Don’t you love it? Perfect Husband picked it out a year ago, when we were shopping for lamps. He got all excited about it (he loves aerospace stuff – he can watch Mayday for hours and has a massive amount of NASA trivia memorized) but we decided not to buy it, because buying light fixtures for babies who don’t exist seems like a jinx. However, when I got pregnant, we went back and searched through a couple of Home Depots until we found it.
It’s a good thing I had always planned on a “sky” themed baby’s room, because that airplane was going in regardless. They had a ship one too, which appealed to the Maritimer in me, but a) Perfect Husband was like “nooo…. plaaaaaane!!” and b) since I was planning a SKY themed nursery, a ship wouldn’t have made a lot of sense (though I could have made a Wynken, Blynken and Nod argument).
Anyway, we opened up the box today and my friend was installing it when we realized… it didn’t have any bloody wings. I hear that’s kind of important. I was ticked. It was totally sealed when I opened that box, so why was there no wing? How was I going to convince Home Depot to give me the part? We bought this thing months and months ago – no way we still had the receipt. I was having nightmare visions of having to buy a whole new fixture, and what with cell phones and buckets of paint and everything else, money is not exactly abundant in the IfByYes household.
But I called the Home Depot where I bought it, and they didn’t give me any hassle at all. They didn’t accuse me of breaking it, or trying to rip them off. They just invited me to come down, which I did (friend’s son in tow for company) and they ripped open a new box, yanked out a wing, and said “there y’go.”
Home Depot, if you have customer service people trolling the interwebs for customer comments, like Shaw did for Mommy By Day, please here this loud and clear: I love you, and THANK YOU.
Now I have an amazing baby’s room. Now, if only I could afford furniture for it…
My phone still works, and I find this vaguely suspicious.
Everyone seems to be getting a new phone lately. Perfect Husband’s old MUCH Music phone died in the spring after many years of faithful service, so he replaced it with a shiny new model. My friend had to switch phone companies after a massive blow-out with her provider which I won’t go into here. She had to get a new phone. Then that same friend dropped her new phone in a parking lot just as the person in the parking space next to her was backing up out of their space – CRUNCH.
Then Perfect Husband calls me from rehearsal from a strange phone number. He tells me that his phone got wet, shorted out, and now doesn’t work reliably, so if I need him I should call this other number, which is a cast member’s cell. I don’t ask him what happened because his voice has that strained tension that comes with having to tell one’s director “I have a wife who is nine months pregnant and can’t get a hold of me. If you don’t give me five minutes and someone else’s cell phone, I’m going to start a massacre”.
When he came home he was too angry to talk about it. All he would say was that there was a “toilet incident”. I puzzled on this for a while, because his anger seemed to denote that someone else was at fault, but sometimes he gets angry at himself, so I didn’t push things further. Then I signed on to Facebook… and his director’s Facebook status was about HER phone getting wet and going on the fritz that same night. So apparently this “incident” affected multiple cell phones in the area that night. One’s imagination fills in rather too vividly at this point.
The next day someone else on Facebook posted that their phone was broken and they had to get a new one.
Then Spokeit made this post.
Meanwhile, my phone is three years old, has a damaged top with a Labrador’s tooth mark in it, and has been dropped more times than I could ever count, and then been retrieved by uncountable numbers of slobbering dogs. It works fine.
I’m watching it suspiciously.
In other news, I’m getting clouds put on my nursery today! YAY!
Except that since PH needs to buy a new phone we are even more broke than we expected to be, and I can’t even afford to buy awesome room-painting friends lunch. *Sigh*. I have freezies. They can eat all the freezies they want.
Wow. I wonder if this is a problem in other countries too? Maybe this will result in a sudden decrease of life expectancy in Japan…