Most people enjoy the weekends, they think it’s a time to relax and be with their families. For me though, it’s different. Friday-Sunday I have to wear deodorant and get out of bed because I’m usually spending time with my husband, going out to dinner or hanging out with his family. Which is a huge departure from my Monday-Thursday. Which means that my days get all mixed up and my months get mixed up and most of the time I think it’s still 2012. Which is really just wishful thinking because 2012 was a year that was filled with lots of important things like college and trips and papers. 2013 has involved my vagina way too much and my brain way too little. I am totally alright with this though, because this is what I signed up for and I am honestly enjoying myself. Every day of the week is like a really awesome lazy weekend. I have it so good, SO GOOD, and I know it. I sleep until whenever I want and now I can eat whatever I want and I don’t have to deal with people all day.
BUT… as you can imagine, I spend a lot of time alone, with myself and my thoughts and my dogs. Which means that I have to be very cautious of what I think about. With my ADHD and my anxiety put together it sometimes becomes the perfect storm of chaos in my head. Especially because I have two little people inside me that I worry constantly about, my dad just died and my mom and sister are in Spain until November. I am grateful in my ability to adapt to change instead of resist it, my whole world has changed. Even my dreams have changed, I used to have nightmares about showing up late for an exam that I hadn’t studied for and waking up in a sweat. Now I dream about being in the hospital with monitors all hooked up to me and having nurses rush in because one of my baby’s is having heart decels. I still have zombie dreams though, and it’s sad that those dreams are less traumatizing than the others are now.
Having been a doula for almost three years now has been a blessing and a curse through this pregnancy. I’m hyper aware of all the things that could go wrong and things that are probably normal and when it’s time to worry. But I also know way too much. I’ve seen what can go wrong, I know more than I should. I focus on using this knowledge as power but sometimes I let the things I know get in the way of empowerment. That’s when I know it’s time to take a walk. Go outside. Write something. Read something. Call a friend. Go shopping. Take a nap. ANYTHING to get away from scary thoughts that turn obsessive and suddenly I’m googling things that I KNOW I shouldn’t.
Then there are days and weeks that I find myself so excited to give birth and become a mother. I’ve seen it on the faces of many new parents, that moment of… wait… what?! Meeting that person who you’ve dreamed of for months and in our case years. I am ready and excited to cross this finish line into the even longer marathon of being parents, but for now I know how lucky I am to feel good physically and have such an easy uneventful pregnancy so far. I know the time is coming soon where I might feel very uncomfortable and want them to get out ASAP but I really want these babies to be big and fat and strong and I want to birth them naturally.
I don’t know what fate has in store for me, but I’m planning for the best case scenario, knowing I can handle the worst with grace. When I was going through IVF people had the audacity to tell me to enjoy being infertile because being pregnant SUCKS and you throw up and you feel like shit and the first trimester is horrible and you’ll never sleep and then you have to push a watermelon through your vagina and the whole thing is a NIGHTMARE. Well, guess what? My first trimester was easy, I didn’t EVER, not once, throw up. I still sleep great at 18 weeks pregnant with twins. I’m not saying it’s all going to be as perfect as it has been but there is no reason for me to prepare for everyone else’s bad experience. The same goes for birth. I feel really bad for people who only hear horror stories, who watch “A Baby Story” and then fear childbirth like its the worst thing in the world. I can tell you right now, even if birth is REALLY BAD and painful and I almost die, I would rather do that every day for the rest of my life than have to watch my father die slowly and take his last breath in front of me. So, at least I know one thing worse than childbirth.
You could say I don’t have any room to talk because I’ve never given birth, but I think I kinda do. I have seen the MOST amazing births you could imagine, first hand. Peaceful, serene, empowering, incredible, peaceful natural births from normal people. I once held a woman up in a squatting position for an hour and a half, I had one side, her husband had the other, and she pushed and labored and worked her ass off to deliver that baby standing up. Her doctor was laying on the floor on a towel catching her son. I met this woman 3 hours before her son was born and to tell you the truth she was just like any other woman I had ever met except she was about to show me how powerful women are. I was so sore for the next few days my arms and legs felt like jello, but every step I took I thought about her. I was overwhelmed with gratitude and awe. So yeah, birth is scary sometimes. So is pregnancy, some people have to stay in the hospital their entire pregnancy because of hyperemesis gravidarum, but some people run marathons until they give birth. The same goes for parenting stories. People have told me to “enjoy my sleep now” or that I have no idea what I’m about to “lose” when they get here. I have had 25 years of great sleep, wishing a baby would wake me so I could nurse them. I have 9 years of peaceful nights sleeping with my husband and have waited years to watch this amazing man become a father. Every single day I wakeup still pregnant I am beyond grateful, I can’t wait to feel the contractions and I can’t wait to see my husbands face when he meets his son and daughter.
I don’t know what life is going to be like when they get here. What if they have Autism? What if they have brown eyes? What if they have my moms nose? What if they have my nose? What if one or both of them is gay? What if they’re left handed? What if they grow up to hate musicals? What if all they want to do is listen to musicals? What if they want to go to Harvard? What if they grow up to be Republicans? What if they grow up to be Liberals? What if they want to go to Church? What if they’re allergic to dogs? What if they really want a cat? What if I don’t like their significant other? What if they hate their names? What if they have ADHD like my dad and I? What if…what if… what if… It never ends. I might have a cesarean section, they might fall out in the bathroom at home, I might hate my last trimester, I might feel more beautiful than I ever have. At this point, all I know is this: life is really scary sometimes, and the rest of the time, if you let it, it will literally bring you to tears with beauty and amazement. I stopped giving the world permission to stress me the fuck out when I decided that no matter what, I would be fine (thank you hypnotherapy). My dad once carried his best friend who weighs 200 lbs up the side of a mountain in Mexico, he spent a night in Mexican jail and when we picked him up he only had one shoe and a golden retriever, he never stopped fighting and showed no fear when cancer came for him. He beat every odd and went down literally and figuratively swinging. So I’m not afraid of what is around the corner any more, because this is something people have been doing since the beginning of time. They give birth, they live and then they die. I’m just gonna keep going until I can’t anymore because life is too short to be afraid of the unknown.
My dad used to tell me two things 1) ‘And in the end, the love you get is equal to the love you give,’ – The Beatles and 2)’This above all: to thine ownself be true’- Shakespeare. I know he would be proud of me and I know what he would say if I told him how I was feeling today, he’d probably tell me to just do the best I can, live for now and don’t worry about anyone else… and then he’d probably crack a joke about my beer belly. No one has asked me if I’ve been drinking too much beer lately and that makes me really sad because I know that’s the first thing he would say if he could see me now.
We’ve been spending a lot of time golfing in the past weeks. I feel so close to my dad and so healthy and free when I’m outside. We take his best friend, Dior, out on the course and I feel him all around me. He loved photography so I’ve been trying to take more pictures, I thought I’d share some.