strings

i don't even know what to write. where to begin. it's so much, that i don't think words even work anymore...

gah.

there's just too much going on... too much that's important.

and i'm gonna fuck it all up.

i want to crawl into a hole.

i have no idea what i'm doing.

i feel like any decision i make right now will be utterly wrong, and i'll pay for it for the rest of my life.

and it kills me, because somehow i can't get through this like i normally do... i can usually reason or meditate my way through these things. and yet... not so much.

i want to scream and cry and sleep... maybe bang my head into a wall....

everyday is a struggle not to break.

no time to be broken...

cause it's all moving really fast... and if i don't keep up...

i'm fucked.

racing with myself

So I haven't written here in about a month... I've been trying to figure out why. The truth of the matter is... I'm really fucking scared. Like. Crazy scared.

And it's not just the whole ohmygodimgonnabeafuckingparent thing, although that does play a large part. It's everything...

What if I'm not eating enough?
What if I'm eating too much?
Is the baby getting the right nutrition?
Am I exercising enough?
Am I exercising too much?
The baby hasn't moved all day... is she ok?
What if something is wrong and I don't know it?
If I wait for my doctor's appointment, will it be too late?
If I call the doctor, am I paranoid?
What was that cramp?
Have I gained too much weight?
What if I never lose the weight?
Is my husband still going to find me attractive?
The baby just moved... is she ok?

And so on...

No one tells you about the terrible paranoia that comes with pregnancy. Although it could just be me...

Today was my third 10 hour day at work... it's definitely getting harder than it used to be.

Dear God... I have no idea how I'm going to balance my career and being a mom... looking at it now, it seems impossible.

I want to crawl into a hole and close my eyes...

I recently had a nightmare that I was pregnant. I woke up and remembered I was pregnant. I've never felt more guilty...

I feel like the panic is making me disconnect from the baby. And that makes me panic more.

I'm really nervous about postpartum.

Sometimes I think Jason is avoiding the whole "wife is preggers" thing.

I'm having trouble sleeping... I don't know if it's being pregnant, or being crazy.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm working so much to avoid thinking about all of this.

And I still can't tell if this is just reality slapping me in the face, or if I'm just losing my mind.

I woke up crying at 5 in the morning the other day. I cried because Jason was sleeping on the couch due to the fact that our living room gets 15 degrees cooler than our bedroom.

Ok. Maybe that last one was hormones...

Maybe it's all hormones...

And that's just it.

I really have no goddamned idea...

I guess it's never too early to start worrying about your child...

So... yesterday I found out that my blood is low on a hormone. Now, I have no idea what the hormone name is now. The doctor told me, but I'm just not that typical pregnant woman who retains the name and job of every hormone in her body. Anyway, I'm low on this hormone... and it could effect the baby's growth. The baby might not grow fast enough, and be born too small. I have to go in every 3-4 weeks so the doc can measure the baby, and see how its growing. I was assured that it's certainly nothing to freak out about or worry about. It's just a precaution.

Ya know...

It still really scares the crap out of me.

Little thumps and flutters

I still can't believe you there. Just cozy curled up inside me. Everywhere I go, you come with me. Hibernating. Waiting. I so wonder what life is like for you right now. I wonder if you even have an awareness of your existence... of my existence for that matter.

Maybe this is getting a little too philosophical.

I heard your heart beating for the first time. I think it will be a joyful sound that rings in my ears for the rest of my life. The same as the first time I saw that image of a small blob with a flutter in the middle is burned into my brain.

Your father was grinning from ear to ear when he first saw your fuzzy ultrasound image. I think he's proud of you already.

It's still strange to think that you're sitting right here with me as I type this. I can't believe how much I love you already.

Sometimes I dream about you. I see you in my dreams at age 3.. or 12... or 25. It's very strange.

I can't wait to show you this world. There are so many wonderful, beautiful people out here waiting to meet you. I hope you know that you're going to have the most wonderful extended family ever... and the largest. Cause in this house, friends are family too. It's something you'll grow up understanding. They're all so amazing. I can't wait for you to meet them.

I can't wait to meet you... even though it's like I've always known you.

I think I'm going to really really love being your mom.

Mental Note...

Must.

Slow.

Down.

Fuck you, Zuul.

Why in God's name am I awake at 2am?

Oy.

I guess there's a lot on my mind lately. Aside from the kid, there's work, money, houses, the messiness of my apartment, the mass amount of laundry, taxes, the car, my husband, the animals, worrying about friends, and my health. Just to name a few. I could probably go into great detail about every single one of these, but somehow I think it would be counter productive. Rather than get everything off my mind, it would just stir it up even more. Blah.

Being a grown-up sucks. Ever thought you'd hit the day when you wish you're greatest worry was your math test? Ha.

Time to try and sleep. Hard enough, with the little pod that likes to wreak havoc on my body and hormones.

There is no relaxation. There is only Zuul.

So Far...

So. Let's talk about the pregnancy experience so far.

Um... I'm nauseous. A lot. I've learned that the term "morning sickness" is highly inaccurate. I've puked in the morning, afternoon, and evening. Sometimes, without warning. I've puked at home. I've puked at work. I've puked in Port Authority. And the kicker to it all is, that on top of all the nausea, I'm still really hungry... It's really really bizarre. It's almost like I've had a non-stop hangover for the past few weeks. And oh look... I'm getting nauseous now. I tried ginger candy... it made it worse. I think if I eat another saltine, I'll scream...

Oh, and did I mention the constipation? Yup. Constipation. Awesome. I've never been so happy to poop in my life. If I take a shit, it's a great fucking day.

The jeans are getting oh-so-slightly tightish.

Breaking out just a bit.

And the EXHAUSTION. Holy crap... I can barely move some days... it's insane. Now, it doesn't help that I was sick for over a week. Sick + Pregnant apparently equals sleeping for at least 12 hours a day just to be able to move. But even without being sick, I just get wave upon wave of exhaustion. I feel like a slug.

Oy. Fun, huh?

I'm 8 weeks now... little webbed fingers and toes have begun to develop. My baby can bend her arms now. She has little elbows. She also has an upper lip and external ears. In a few days, her eyelids will begin to form. She's more than half and inch long - about the size of a bean...

So. Very. Tiny.

I have a tiny person. Tiny, tiny, tiny.

How does something so tiny... make me puke so much?

Somehow, though... I think it will be worth it. Call it intuition.

Names of Choice (MY choice, at least...) at the moment:

Girl: Lily Isabella
Boy: Wilson James