When I got pregnant I told myself I would not ONLY write about being pregnant. Funny since pregnancy is my main dish these days, I have not written at all (which is really what happened most of May...it wasn't the month, she's a good month). I can't blame it all on the bump either. Ti's true I have a lack of energy and a shift in focus that has taken many of my brain cells, vocabulary, and recall. My desire to ponder, to proliferate, perhaps continue to explore ME is sidetracked by feeling compelled to soak up my time staring obsessively at ultra scan photos or trying to decipher relevant facts about neo-natal care, health, preparation, etc. (as if I am already behind on studying for some big test). But truth be told, this is an amazing experience with something new happening every day and I assume it only gets more interesting once the bird flies the coup.
So when it comes down to the lack of writing, really it's about a deeply ingrained fear I have that what I am living might encompass my every thought to the point that it is all I can talk about, which seems so one dimensional. Since it creates an awkward juxtaposition to happy events, I've learned my attempts to suffocate this fear can be stifling in an entirely different way. I am too old to feel like I will loose myself in this process; too old to not understand this will quite possibly be the hardest thing I have tried to undertake; too old to not understand how lucky I am to have this opportunity; and too young not to embrace it more fully. So in response to the lack of words, I am breaking the silence and stringing together happy thoughts.
I am excited and find myself talking to the little bird more and more (who kicks when it's time to eat and at night). My belly came out last month. It was a definitive shift one Sunday morning when I woke up and, like so many days before when it would disappear back into my body, I thought it would sink back in once I woke up and hydrated. I still sometimes expect it to be gone when I look down. Lately though, the mirror reliably reflects a growing profile displaying a curve where once there was hard-earned flatness. I like to think the curve is hard-earned in a different kind of way but this pregnancy does not feel that intense. It is more soft, like a lesson in kindness and the art of being delicate. It has been a challenge to me to slow down; to move with ease; and to not press when I want to. I have slowly adjusted to feeling like an anomaly - as if this truly is something special so to speak.
Lately I find the saying, “this too shall pass” coming in to my mind. It’s a funny thing because I always used to associate it with the bible however it seems to have been established by a Persian Sufi poet, which makes me like it so much more (the bible has been over-marketed). Funny too that for as long as the saying has been in my realm of understanding I have always thought it was meant for the negative events in life; like a tool to help pull me through the dark waters. As in, "yes this is horrible but I’ll get through it." At times it has become my mantra when dealing with the shit that comes down the pipe.
A few weeks ago it hit me that it also speaks to the good in life. As in, "enjoy it now because it will be gone before you know it." I like thinking of it that way after spending so much time paying homage to the negative side of the coin. Life is WAY too short and maybe that’s what I’ve been feeling lately. This all will swiftly pass before my eyes (having a nine month time clock does that to a girl): the rounding belly, the small movements, the tingling and slow achy stretch in my sides, strangers with sheer joy on their faces, and friends with support and excitement in their voices. Once again it is an argument for being present.
Day to day it doesn't feel like it's that fast of a ride. I hear it only gets faster as tiny feet grow from crawling to walking to riding a bike to driving a car to dancing into adulthood. For now I'll stick with the every day play by play and see if this belly-button of mine decides to pop out for a visit.
So when it comes down to the lack of writing, really it's about a deeply ingrained fear I have that what I am living might encompass my every thought to the point that it is all I can talk about, which seems so one dimensional. Since it creates an awkward juxtaposition to happy events, I've learned my attempts to suffocate this fear can be stifling in an entirely different way. I am too old to feel like I will loose myself in this process; too old to not understand this will quite possibly be the hardest thing I have tried to undertake; too old to not understand how lucky I am to have this opportunity; and too young not to embrace it more fully. So in response to the lack of words, I am breaking the silence and stringing together happy thoughts.
I am excited and find myself talking to the little bird more and more (who kicks when it's time to eat and at night). My belly came out last month. It was a definitive shift one Sunday morning when I woke up and, like so many days before when it would disappear back into my body, I thought it would sink back in once I woke up and hydrated. I still sometimes expect it to be gone when I look down. Lately though, the mirror reliably reflects a growing profile displaying a curve where once there was hard-earned flatness. I like to think the curve is hard-earned in a different kind of way but this pregnancy does not feel that intense. It is more soft, like a lesson in kindness and the art of being delicate. It has been a challenge to me to slow down; to move with ease; and to not press when I want to. I have slowly adjusted to feeling like an anomaly - as if this truly is something special so to speak.
Lately I find the saying, “this too shall pass” coming in to my mind. It’s a funny thing because I always used to associate it with the bible however it seems to have been established by a Persian Sufi poet, which makes me like it so much more (the bible has been over-marketed). Funny too that for as long as the saying has been in my realm of understanding I have always thought it was meant for the negative events in life; like a tool to help pull me through the dark waters. As in, "yes this is horrible but I’ll get through it." At times it has become my mantra when dealing with the shit that comes down the pipe.
A few weeks ago it hit me that it also speaks to the good in life. As in, "enjoy it now because it will be gone before you know it." I like thinking of it that way after spending so much time paying homage to the negative side of the coin. Life is WAY too short and maybe that’s what I’ve been feeling lately. This all will swiftly pass before my eyes (having a nine month time clock does that to a girl): the rounding belly, the small movements, the tingling and slow achy stretch in my sides, strangers with sheer joy on their faces, and friends with support and excitement in their voices. Once again it is an argument for being present.
Day to day it doesn't feel like it's that fast of a ride. I hear it only gets faster as tiny feet grow from crawling to walking to riding a bike to driving a car to dancing into adulthood. For now I'll stick with the every day play by play and see if this belly-button of mine decides to pop out for a visit.