Four and One

I crawl into the last month of 2011. My back’s out. I’m all tweaked. Many things are going beautifully and just as they should. But I’m uneasy. Perhaps it’s the month that’s dragging me down. F’ing December.

This Time

My task now is to follow Story’s lead: to embody the belief that it will all turn out. It’s much easier said than done. I feel the familiar anxiety when I consider going back to work, and how much time I have left before then. How can we do it? What about the next time Rafael’s gone? What about when he’s gone AND I’m working AND we have two kids? See how easy it is to go cuckoo? I know you do.

Overdue

I’ve been up, I’ve been down. I’ve been optimistic, I’ve been sure, and I’ve been utterly defeated. She didn’t–she hasn’t­–come. My daughter’s still stewing / baking / dreaming / swimming in utero, while my mind whirs away trying to find meaning, a plan, an approach, a place of quiet where the whappa whappa sounds will cease.

Due Date

Yes, I’m waiting to go into labor. On the other side of it, I can imagine holding her. That new baby smell. I can imagine having a family of four, and it being a sweet sweet thing. I can also imagine the first few weeks and months being hard. The agony of sleep deprivation, the bitch I might become at times. In between those future events and today, there’s the reality that I’m going to have a crazy fucking physical experience in which I will open up and a tiny human being will emerge…from me!

Knocked Up and Feeling Down

You’re not supposed to be depressed when you’re pregnant. You’re supposed to feel lucky and blessed to have the Power of Breeding. You should feel smug, as this song, recently shared by a FB friend, reminded me: “Pregnant women are smug. Everyone knows it. But nobody says it. Because they’re pregnant.” It’s kind of catchy. If I wasn’t so depressed, or pregnant, I’d laugh.