This morning, I looked down, got a fright, and thought, “Oh Geez….that’s right”.
I can’t be sure if I’m In Denial or just Very Relaxed.
I suspect, just between you and me, it’s probably the former.
And no, it’s not that my toenails need repainting. It’s not even that my legs are long overdue for a visit to the lovely Gemma for a haircut.
No friends, it’s because in officially two weeks there will occur The Expected Arrival Of My First Child.
Now, can I just say, it’s not like I’ve been living with my head in the sand. I’ve read the books. I’ve gone to the classes. I’ve packed my hospital bag. I’ve decorated the baby room. I’ve washed the baby clothes. I’ve even done a Hypnobirthing course. I am organized. I’ve thought things through. I have actually Post-It-Noted baby books so I can have a quick reference in times of emergency i.e. Baby appears to be hysterically crying…What To Do? I have prided myself on being an active member of this pre-parenting orchestra of events and I have been excited beyond social tolerance about meeting this little being somersaulting inside me.
Today I seemed to have Simply Forgotten. Today I looked at my calender and actually thought I had missed a month. Today I am not excited. Unless excitement is when you appear to have trouble swallowing. Today, two weeks seems far too soon, so I have quite smartly decided Not To Think About It, because, frankly, I don’t know what to think.
Last week, a well-meaning woman at a cafe saw my swollen belly and immediately began gushing, “Oooohhh, how long to go? 3 weeks. Do you know if it’s a boy or girl? No, it’s a surprise. How EXCITING!” Polite smile. She then tells me, “Parenting is the best thing. The Best. You’ll love it.” And I think, firstly, “Wow, really? The Best? My god, what is this secret club I know nothing about? Why on earth didn’t I sign up years ago?”. And then, secondly, I think, “Stop right there Sister, I don’t need that kind of pressure. Perhaps I won’t love it, at least not ALL of it. Parenting may well NOT be the best thing and suggesting that I’ll LOVE IT is a grand task to live up to. By the way, I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Call me negative, but I think of it as being realistic. Yes, I’m sure there will be things to love, things that I couldn’t possibly even know about right at the minute because, really, I haven’t experienced it yet. But, I’m not so naive as to think that I will love every second. That my every human desire will be fulfilled; that having a child will instill my every waking moment with a warm god-like glow of transcendental bliss. That I will LOVE IT…so absolutely, so unquestionably, so naturally that I will be finally pronounced as “Complete”. That, to me, is like writing in a thick black texter across my forehead “Candidate For Post-Natal Depression” on those days when I’m not digging it. When the sleep deprivation and the nappy washing and the “Mummy I’m hungry” is quite simply getting on my nerves, and I, consequently wonder …what’s wrong with me? “They” said I would LOVE It, and be GREAT AT IT.
I firmly believe that pinning that much happiness on another human being, or a certain experience is a dangerous slope to dissatisfaction.
Will I love the mundane domestic repetition?
Will I love the tantrums?
Will I love the meltdowns and the urgent calls to Joel hissing get home now?
Knowing me, quite likely not will I LOVE it. And by “it”, I mean “those moments”. On reflection, I would instead love the following things.
- A live-in cleaner. (When Joel tries to vacuum, there appears a woman- who will remained unnamed- yelling above the drone of the vacuum cleaner, “You’re not being thorough. MOVE THE FURNITURE….“)
- My very own Guardian Angel who flies down every day once the baby is born to say, “The baby is trying to tell you ____. Try feeding on the other boob now. You rest, I’ve got dinner covered. Would you like a foot rub? You’re doing a great job. Carry on, Brave Warrior. “
- An escape route. Even if it’s just to my very own happy place. It would be helpful to have a contingency plan to Prevent Any Meltdowns I have an inkling may occur. Press a freckle and then Whamo, hello beach with a pina colada in my hand.
However, since I am so socially sweet, instead I smile and fumble out an, “O yes, it’s very exciting…not long now!”
So…back to My Being Relaxed (In Denial): I have thought about everything, and the only thing that is left to do is to stop thinking about it, because there is absolutely no way to know how it’s gonna go.
Maybe that’s actually just Living In The Moment and I might be more spiritually evolved than previously suspected.
All I know is that it’s just such a strange feeling to look down and see that I’m pregnant. (Yes, presumably you’d think I’ve had cottoned on by now.) However, I’m living in a world where at precisely any second, my life will change drastically. Irreversibly. Forever. And without knowing to what capacity it will change. Just knowing that it absolutely 100% will.
I look for a seat belt to strap me in and hold me tight against the awe and the trepidation, the excitement and the fear, and I realise that, of course, there isn’t one. So, instead, I make a cup of tea and start a blog.
It’s happening. And soon, I might add.