week 1- 6
I get the feeling i am somehow not supposed to expose my utter apathy, spying on message boards and blogs littered with bubbly exclamation marks, enthusiasm, and obnoxious slang like 'preggers' and 'hubby.' Come on.
There is also a tinge of guilt knowing some people try like mad to get pregnant for years. So I should feel grateful for fertility and nausea, congestion, gas, cramps, this awful taste in my mouth, having to give up coffee and beer.
Yet I did this to myself. Well planned years in advance with a husband now overflowing with excitement.
Its also my fault that I have fallen into a life and personality that is not very well suited to this whole process. I think about the throngs of women with their close knit groups of female friends who will throw them big baby showers. I think about women with sisters. Families that live close by. I imagine sitting here by myself in isolation day after day as the excited husband skips off to work.
I am not excited to tell certain friends, knowing they will be annoyed at my seeming to be jumping on the double stroller band wagon, doing what one is 'supposed' to do at this stage in life.
My bests friends are missing. Far away or trapped in their own bizarre worlds. This will make me less free to travel to visit, less able to relate. This chic pea sized blob that claims to be in my body is basically telling me I will lose everything I had before.
I find myself googling things like "do i have to buy a crib?" and "how to deliver your own baby." I can't stand to watch any movies with those loud comical scenes in the delivery room where 10 people all gather around some poor woman. I read once that in some tribal culture, the woman goes off by herself into the forest to give birth. Can I do that? I can't find it again, and now I think I may have made it up. Traditional cultures are set up to provide huge amounts of support, I can't imagine them sending anyone into the woods alone in that condition.
I refuse to tell anyone until well after that magical 3 month mark when its safe to say one is sufficiently pregnant. Excited husband calls me an iron closet. He can't imagine how to contain himself. I, on the other hand, have no problem containing myself.
I get the feeling i am somehow not supposed to expose my utter apathy, spying on message boards and blogs littered with bubbly exclamation marks, enthusiasm, and obnoxious slang like 'preggers' and 'hubby.' Come on.
There is also a tinge of guilt knowing some people try like mad to get pregnant for years. So I should feel grateful for fertility and nausea, congestion, gas, cramps, this awful taste in my mouth, having to give up coffee and beer.
Yet I did this to myself. Well planned years in advance with a husband now overflowing with excitement.
Its also my fault that I have fallen into a life and personality that is not very well suited to this whole process. I think about the throngs of women with their close knit groups of female friends who will throw them big baby showers. I think about women with sisters. Families that live close by. I imagine sitting here by myself in isolation day after day as the excited husband skips off to work.
I am not excited to tell certain friends, knowing they will be annoyed at my seeming to be jumping on the double stroller band wagon, doing what one is 'supposed' to do at this stage in life.
My bests friends are missing. Far away or trapped in their own bizarre worlds. This will make me less free to travel to visit, less able to relate. This chic pea sized blob that claims to be in my body is basically telling me I will lose everything I had before.
I find myself googling things like "do i have to buy a crib?" and "how to deliver your own baby." I can't stand to watch any movies with those loud comical scenes in the delivery room where 10 people all gather around some poor woman. I read once that in some tribal culture, the woman goes off by herself into the forest to give birth. Can I do that? I can't find it again, and now I think I may have made it up. Traditional cultures are set up to provide huge amounts of support, I can't imagine them sending anyone into the woods alone in that condition.
I refuse to tell anyone until well after that magical 3 month mark when its safe to say one is sufficiently pregnant. Excited husband calls me an iron closet. He can't imagine how to contain himself. I, on the other hand, have no problem containing myself.
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