We're getting closer and closer. Last night after eating some crock potted tacos (I'm getting more and more efficient in the kitchen thanks to my crocker) Fancy was having a real fiesta dancing around like the little Mexican jumping bean s/he is. Either s/he loves tacos or HATES them. Either way, it made Todd and I think about the possibility of a Cinco de Mayo baby. It's fitting, really since the name 'Todd Kurpel' has quiet a similarity to the fast food chain Taco Bell. It only makes sense. BUT it also means that baby is RIGHT around the corner.
I can't really express how excited I am to welcome my little cauliflower into the world- I feel like we know each other already. I've never felt this sense of anxiety and fear but at the same exact time, a feeling of self-assuredness feeling that my mom, dad and step-mom prepared me as best as they could to be a mom.
I'm beginning to see Fancy's little personality and quirks here and there- for example, even if s/he is having a particularly thrilling dance party, s/he is lulled to sleep when I practice yoga. Something struck me again this morning. When I told my friend Janet about being pregnant months ago she said something that hasn't left me yet: that at least for the next nine months, I'll never feel lonely...and although she's right and I've been referring to myself as "we", my little partner in crime, for months, sometimes I can't help BUT feel loneliness- like I'm leaving something behind.
This isn't a pity party- not at all- as stated, I'm VERY excited and happy about the baby- in fact, I can't wait- it feels like Christmas Eve every single day... I like to gaze at my funny figure in the mirror every morning, I like to wrap my belly with this one sweater from old navy, I'm amazed with the strength, gusto and energy pregnancy has graced me with, and I can't wait to see what we've made...BUT I still can't help with every little kick and poke and every conversation with friends and family, and the obviously bulbous belly right under my nose, I feel a chapter of our life ending with the dawn of the next one just around the corner. It's bittersweet- truth be told, sometimes it just makes me want to kick people in the shins.
I see the looks on some people's faces: my players- when I hop in a drill to demo throwing and catching a lacrosse ball are afraid of my fragile state (honestly, I'm in better shape than some of those birds.)
I can see the look on some faces or hear the doubt in voices when I say I'm coming out to hang out at a bar or see a show-and see some of the sly looks as I leave earlier than most- but that's because I didn't spend all day in bed sleeping off my hangover- I got up and seized the day- at an early hour!
I'm tiring of the comments from some (discussing the impending storm- a fact that I'm not completely upset about) "no, you can't do that, you're pregnant."
...But people...I'm pregnant...NOT DEAD. There's a baby in my belly, I'm not sentenced to some terminal disease. So let's get over this together: I'm not making excuses for me, don't you do it. A bunch of folks my age are a new crop and breed of pregnant ladies. We're the kind of ladies who go about our lives; we're the pull-up-our-boot-straps kind of people -the type looking forward to seeing what our tattooed skin will look when our grandchildren sees us in bikinis (and how we'll explain ourselves with some of the more embarrassing body art choices.)
I think another reason why these feelings are popping up are because it's all people want to talk to me about these days. It's like I'm a one trick pony. I get it. It's obvious. I'm having a baby....and I'm tiring of the first question out of every single person's mouth every time I seen them (even if it's day after day): How are you feeling? Ugh. Is the baby kicking? UGH. You must be tired. UUGGHH.
As mentioned, these thoughts and feelings are stemming from the ending and subsequent beginning of life chapters. Furthermore, I'm near CERTAIN that my recent seven months of sobriety has something to do with it- similar to the way I see people poke and prod at fires to wake up the embers that are burning out. I've had to occupy my life with activities such as room painting, dancing in the living room with my MP3 cell phone pressed to my belly, baking, juicing, cleaning up messes made by other people as well as felines, and clear-minded thinking...oh, the thinking. It's enough to drive a lady to drink.And sure, it's the winter so there aren't as many outdoor activities available (and I live in Aston...)
I'm rambling. And I'm being selfish because I know I can't have it all- to be able to talk about my funny little baby made by a serendipitous Myspace match only when I want to and everyone react to it exactly how I want them to ...and to shut up about it already when I'm tired of the subject...but I'd sure like that to be the case. (So get with the program, people!)
So I'll shut up for today except for one final, sweet note: carrot pineapple juice is REALLY good.
Comments
I'm only telling you this stuff so you don't feel weird if it happens. Because part of the mothering game seems to be "Never Admit Weakness" and some of your friends will treat you like a pariah if your reaction varies at all from their "correct" reaction. (They're probably lying.) You can't believe what an oppressive force other women can be about things like this.
BUT you will have delight, and joy, and worries galore. You will care for your creature in ways you can't even imagine.
Just don't feel apologetic if you don't want to disappear completely into the role of Mother. You can still be you AND a kick-ass mom - and I suspect you will.