Despite popular opinion that I am only just now "coming up for air" since Adam's arrival back home last weekend (implying that somehow I've either been holding my breath for an entire week or else breathing some noxious fart air that he's produced), I've actually been working my butt off at my job. This was my last week at work before heading into maternity leave--today was the official first day--and things got incredibly busy as I tried to wrap up loose ends. Not to mention the fact that I've been getting crappy sleep lately, so I just haven't had the fortitude to come home and do any blogging in the evenings.
Things are starting to come down to the wire, though, and I am very well aware. A woman from my birth class just had her baby--2 weeks early--and my girlfriend Katie, the second in my little triumvirate of pregnant friends, just gave birth to her daughter today, also two weeks early. I'm getting a little panicky about this baby coming ahead of schedule considering Adam and I have nothing prepared. Our office is still in a shambles; not in a shambles of dismantling and moving, mind you, but rather in the constant state of shambles that it always seems to be in. So, crib is not assembled, office furniture is not moved out, living room furniture is still where office furniture will need to be moved to...you get the idea. We are utterly and hopelessly unprepared for the huge move that we will have to make in the next few days in anticipation of baby's arrival, and I'm getting pretty worked up over it.
I've also come to the realization that I've been worked up about some other things too. The other night, in yet another bout of my recent-onset-of-middle-of-the-night insomnia, I actually convinced myself that this whole pregnancy thing wasn't real, that it's all been a nine-month long dream, similar to the entire season of "Dallas" when we thought Bobby Ewing had been killed, only to discover that it had been Pamela's dream all along. So I had one of those moments, completely in denial that Ads and I had gotten ourselves into this situation, that our lives were going to change, that we'd have this huge responsibility in the very near future. One hand over my belly, however, told me it was no dream, and I started to panic. What the hell have we gotten ourselves into? When exactly did I sign up for this???
As push is coming to shove, I've realized my own fears surrounding the birth of the kid--I won't love my kid enough, I'm going to drop it or accidentally spill hot liquid on it and forever maim him/her. I've also realized my anxiety over how I feel I'm disappointing others with regard to the pregnancy. I know a lot of my girlfriends are surprised/disappointed by my seeming lack of enthusiasm about the baby coming. I think I let a lot of people down by specifically NOT registering and by not wanting a baby shower. That had more to do with preferring second-hand stuff and not wanting to consume raw materials from new items than it did with not being excited about baby, but I recognize that people seem to think one has to do with the other. I just don't want to sacrifice my own personal values simply because we're having a baby; I don't want to bring a baby into the world teaching it that people show their love by buying us things. I prefer to have good friends around who show their love by spending time with us; any second-hand items that folks are looking to get rid of are gratefully accepted, and the rest Ads and I will be responsible for getting ourselves. I spoke to my midwife about the feeling that 'I've let people down' by my actions and desires, and she reassured me that this is my pregnancy, and I have the latitude to decide how I want help. She suggested that when people ask me what it is that I need, I tell them "I'll need your company in a few months' time when I'm covered in spitup and poo, and I haven't spoken to another adult in days" or "I'd love for you to make me a simple meal because I don't have the energy or time to actually cook something edible that Adam and I could swallow." I don't want to hurt people's feelings, but I really don't want a bunch of store-bought gifts that we don't have room in our small house for anyway. I want from my friends what is most important--their time, love and friendship.
The other part--the seeming lack of enthusiasm--is kind of true, I suppose. Yesterday, my last day of work, was unexpectedly difficult for me, and I spent the entire evening afterward moping and feeling quite depressed. For the most part, when I've left a job in the past, it's been to start another job or to begin a new academic program. The current reason for leaving is such a different beast, and despite all my coworkers' well-wishes and encouragement, I found myself wanting to get up and head into the office this morning. I was grateful for the ability to sleep-in after yet another night of insomnia, but the feeling that I have no place to go, nothing to do, nothing to define what my day will be like, really hit home. I suppose I am very much the typical American in that way, as I guess I define myself by the academic/employment position that I hold. I just never knew that I felt that way until now. Even knowing that depresses me even more. Thing is, I'm not unhappy or depressed about baby arriving; I'm grieving the life that I've led all these years, which I know is going to change once baby arrives. I've spoken at length with Adam and my midwives about it, and they all agreed that it's completely normal. In fact, one midwife said she'd be more worried about me if I didn't seem a little anxious about the arrival of the baby and the big changes on the horizon. That made me feel better. But I still feel like a bad mum-to-be for not being completely and utterly over-the-moon about not running out with the girls for gin and tonics any random Saturday evening. I know that once baby is here, I will be over the moon about him/her; for now it's just hard to conceptualize.
So, these are just some of my contemplations, a little more private than I really thought I'd want to share, but hey, when have I ever held back before? I guess the one bright side is that there was a cute little red-haired baby at a nearby table during dinner tonight, and I couldn't keep my eyes off him. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off me, either, so maybe that's the sign that babies like me, and I'll be a good mum someday soon. We'll see...
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