Imaginary Lines: 03/01/2005

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

My Heart

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Moody Men

The weekend went fine, aside from some moodiness coming from the males in my home. My husband and my son have been a bit unpredictable lately.

I’m pretty sure that in the case of my husband it has to do with his getting up at 3 AM for work every day. This makes sense to me, but didn’t stop the paranoid side of myself from worrying and fretting all weekend long that I was the reason he was in such a snit. Well, that could also be because he was taking it out on me, ha, ha, ha. Isn’t it great how we tend to single out the person we’re closest to when we’re feeling miserable? Lucky me!

My son also seems to be going through some changes. He must have gotten the memo that all toddlers get a month before turning two. It’s filled with all kinds of info about hitting, biting, and throwing temper tantrums in your reading/play group. “Don’t worry about your mommy getting too mad at you, what’s she’ll mostly feel is guilt and self-doubt, so go ahead, indulge!”

Why is it that my son is the only one at the library who won’t sit on my lap for story time? He is just not interested and wants to skip right to the toys. He also couldn’t care less about the other toddlers in the group, unless they have a toy he wants. This sends him into a fit of rage before anyone even has a chance to share with him.

This is only the third time I have taken him to story/play time. He just gets so excited when we walk through the door that he cannot contain himself. He turns into a little caveman (no offense to any cavemen who might be reading). But I’ve got to tell you, it’s a little embarrassing to be the only parent chasing their child around during the story, especially when you have to chase him around right in front of the whole group. And then when I catch him he squeals at the top of his voice, thereby directing even more unwanted attention toward us.

We finally made it through the story and onto play time. I thought we were out of the woods, but yesterday Thomas decided he needed to have whatever anyone else was playing with. He knocked down blocks, scattered pegs, absconded with trucks, and generally created mayhem. After about 10 minutes I had to take him outta their. He was having a fit because Z and his dad were playing with some cool looking trucks. They were more than willing to share, but Thomas was already in full tantrum mode. I had to get him out of there before he accidentally kicked someone.

Thomas is not old enough to care that I took him out of the play area. What I mean is, he doesn’t make a connection between his behavior and the fact that we had to leave. He just isn’t there yet. Should I try again, or give it a few months before going back? Maybe he just isn’t old enough yet. Or young enough anymore.

I just cannot wait until it is nice enough outside for him to go out and play every day. He needs exercise and fresh air. I think we’ll go for a walk outside today, even if it is drizzly and overcast.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Bigger...And Bigger....

I am gaining weight rapidly. No, this is a not cute, panic-cause-she -put-on-a-little-weight, pregnancy freak-out. I am 20 1/2 weeks pregnant and have put on 25 lbs. Yes, that’s right. Even with all of the throwing-up I did, and still sometimes do, I am packing it on. Like, I’ve put on 4 lbs since my appointment last Friday.

No, this is not pre-eclampsia. I am not swollen, my blood pressure is fine. I am huge, and it scares the hell out of me. I have four months to go, and I’m only going up.

I don’t over-eat, as far as I can tell. Things like cookies and ice cream don’t really even appeal to me, with the occasional exception. I was drinking a lot of watered-down lemonade because it made my tummy feel better, but now I’m drinking strictly bottled water.

Yesterday I had pancakes with my son for breakfast, a sandwich for lunch, and then some macaroni salad around 5 o’clock. The macaroni salad made me sick, so it pretty much put an end to the eating for the day.

So far today I have had cereal and toast, a pear, a glass of orange juice, and a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch. That doesn’t sound too abnormal to me. It doesn’t sound like the meals of someone who is putting on a pound a day.

I was a fat, depressed teenager. I looked at my body in the mirror one day, and decided that I did not want to be that fat person any more. Over about 3 years, I lost 60 lbs. I became a vegetarian, stopped indulging in dessert (most of the time), and pretty much drank only herbal tea and water. There were exceptions, of course. This was really a time of mind over matter for me. It was me finding some control over my own existence, breaking away from the way my parents had taught me to eat and behave, and becoming my own person. I looked great, and I felt great.

I had already started putting on some weight before I got pregnant with Thomas. Getting married and settling down has put me back into some of those old habits. It’s tough when you’re taking care of a family. I make meals that my husband and son will enjoy, and I know that being around Ed has caused me to increase my portions. He makes it seem normal to eat four pieces of pizza in one sitting!!

But that’s not what’s going on now. I can’t explain this pregnancy weight gain. With Thomas I gained 70 lbs., but lost 40 of it within a few weeks after delivery. 30 of it stayed around. But I could at least explain that with the McDonald's and milkshakes that I like to eat when I was pregnant with him. I’m NOT DOING THAT THIS TIME and it’s happening anyway.

I cannot restrict how often I eat very much because of my sickness. I start to feel sick if I go more than a few hours without eating, and my body usually wants protein and carbohydrates to make it feel better.

I have resigned myself to gaining more and more weight until I have this baby. It will be at that time that the real struggle begins. It will be a struggle against my own bad attitude, tendency toward depression, and my lack of motivation. I need to start doing the soul-searching now, so that I can be mentally prepared for the work that lies ahead of me after Ryan is born. And it isn’t just about the weight, that is only part of the work. I will have my family, and I need to work on myself to be the kind of mother and role model I want to be for my children. Beyond that, I need to become the kind of person I need to be to be happy with myself, because ultimately I cannot be a good wife and mother if I am unhappy with who I am.

Can I do this and take care of my toddler and newborn? I will have to find a way. I will have to tell myself that I can find a way, so that I don't use them as an excuse to do nothing for myself.

It’s too bad all I really want to do right now is take a nap!

Thursday, March 17, 2005

An Irish Blessing

Yes, today is St. Patrick’s Day. I am almost a full-blooded Irish woman, well, except for the fact that my father’s mother has Welsh heritage, and my mom’s-dad’s-mom was French Canadian. Anyway, I have red hair and freckles, and my name is Erin for cryin’ out loud, so we won’t talk about the “others.”

When I was a little girl my mom would make us green oatmeal for breakfast on St. Patty’s day. My mom’s name is Patty, ‘cause today is her birthday. Green carnations, green frosting on birthday cake, the wearin’ o’ the green, etc.

If you don’t wear green on St. Patrick’s Day, you’ll be pinched by a leprechaun. ‘Tis true.

It used to be fun to go out and get smashed on St. Patrick’s Day. Well, okay, I had fun one time going out and getting smashed on St. Patrick’s Day. Isn’t that how all drinking memories are, though? It seems like you were having a great time, all of the time, but when you really think about it, there were only one or two times when it was actually fun. All of the other times you got too drunk and too sick, went home lonely and sad, and the bed spun ‘round and ‘round until you finally passed out. You just hoped it might be fun. Mostly it sucked and made you poor.

Tonight the family is going out to dinner for my mom’s birthday. There won’t be any raucous Irish music or heavy drinking, not for me anyway. But I will have a rowdy, almost 2-year-old on my arm, leg, head, or where-ever else he decides to climb. I just hope he doesn’t smack me in the face and knock my glasses clear across the room in a fit of rage as we’re heading toward our table like he did at the Red Robin last weekend. Boy, was that ever fun. For everyone watching. Never pull a boy away from the steering wheel of his arcade game. Not even for a balloon, crayons, and some chicken fingers.

I hope you all have a fabulous, lucky, smashing, green, warm, snow-melting, good-food-eating, no-toddler-smacking-but-lots-of-kissing, special kind of a St. Patrick’s Day today. I believe that is an old Irish blessing. Okay, so maybe it’s a new Irish blessing. Go to it!

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Happy Birthday to Me

Yesterday was my birthday, so I’m officially done with my 20’s and on to bigger and better things. Like my 30’s. So I’m 30, big deal.

I have actually been looking forward to turning 30 since I was about 25 years old. My 20’s were sucking so hard I just figured anything had to be better than that. I also decided around the same time that if I wasn’t married by the time I was 30, I was going to throw myself a big wedding-type party anyway, so I could get all of the good gifts. After all, it isn’t just married people who need nice linens and silverware and new towels and appliances.

I looked forward to turning 30 because I thought maybe then I can start being more comfortable in my own skin and stop looking over my shoulder to see what everyone else was doing. But damnit, I’m still looking over my shoulder to see what everyone else thinks about what I’M DOING. When does it end? When will I reach some kind of state of self-made, self-sustained, internal enlightenment? I guess it takes a little longer than 30 years. I guess I’ll give myself until 35.

My family threw me a nice birthday dinner at my sister’s house, sans my husband. He was sleeping off his horrendous work week that ended with one long 30 hours stretch of hell. I missed him, but he was up and about for Sunday and Monday with his family.

I got presents of maternity clothes, just like last year. Of course last year I miscarried two days after my birthday and ended up feeling really bitter about all of the maternity clothes that I received but couldn’t use. It was kind of like my family’s only acknowledgement that I was pregnant. Three days later it was like it had never happened, for them at least.

I found a picture of me from my birthday last year, and it took me a minute to figure out why I was looking so bleak. I think it was the combination of my husband’s grandmother’s response to finding out that I was pregnant again, (“But I thought you were going back to work.”) and increasingly feeling that something was not right with my new pregnancy.

Why the hell can’t people just say “congratulations” when you tell them that you are pregnant? Save the commentary, really. Especially when I’ve never EVER talked to you about my work situation, because it’s none of your damn business, but obviously SOMEONE (see evil MIL) has been talking to you about the fact that THEY think I need to go back to work...but then this is the SAME MIL who suggested that maybe I was never PREGNANT in the first place and that the BRIGHT SIDE to all of this is that now I could GO BACK TO SCHOOL....but I digress.

About that enlightenment...I’m feeling better than I was on Friday. I took a nap every day this weekend, and it was nice to have my husband here to look after Thomas. I think I’m just very, very tired, and by Friday, I’m just an exhausted wreck. It just cannot be helped that pregnancy is not an easy thing for me. Maybe it isn’t for anyone. I want to thank everyone who left supportive comments, it was great to come on today and see them there.

Well, since I’m 30 now, I better get my rear in gear and get organized. I have a 2 year-old’s birthday to plan, and some bills to pay, all kinds of grown-up things to do. See you later.

Friday, March 11, 2005

How Do You Know if You’re Depressed?

Does anyone out there know who Elliot Smith is? He popped into my head earlier today. It’s been a long time since I listened to him, he was a better fit in my drinking and depression days. He killed himself last year.

It was a line I can’t quite remember, something like, “My feelings never change a bit, I always feel like shit, I don’t know why, I just do.” Nice. But oh, how I have always been able to relate to those lyrics.

I used to be professionally clinically depressed. I was very good at it, and I knew my job inside and out. But there came a time when I felt I was growing out of that position, and somehow I clawed my way out of the black pit.

But like anyone else who has fought with major depression can tell you, there will always be days when you feel like you are being lured back to the edge of the pit, closer and closer to the slippery edge. There is some sick romantic draw, and it gets stronger the closer you get. I think this is because the closer you get to the edge of the pit, the more exhausted and helpless you feel, it just seems like it would be easier to fall in, to just sleep, and sleep. And sleep. And fuck everything else, because you’re so powerless and useless anyway.

The worst is when you don’t even know how close to the pit you really are until you’re right up on top of it. You turn around and there the bastard is. So, just jump right in, right? It seems so easy.

But this is different, I think. I mean, I’m not sure if it’s the black pit or if I’m just sick. It would make a world of difference to me to know that I’m not suffering from clinical depression again, but that maybe it’s because I’m pregnant.

I’m sick every day. I don’t throw up every day anymore, but I’m sick. I don’t want to do anything except sleep. No matter how much sleep I get I feel like I can’t quite wake up. This makes me feel like a terrible, failure of a mother. I feel like I can’t give Thomas everything he needs, I feel like I’m failing him every day.

My house is a mess. I feel overwhelmed by it, like I don’t even know where to start. Whenever I get it under control, it’s back out of control within hours. I hardly ever leave the house. I have lost contact with friends. My husband works absurdly long hours and I feel very alone, and I feel like I can’t HANDLE it on most days. This is also how I felt when I was depressed. One reassuring difference is that I am not having any suicidal thoughts. That's good.

What is wrong with me? Is it pregnancy? Is it the morning sickness and the hormones that are taking over? Why is this so hard? Why is it so easy for some women to be pregnant, and it turns me into a basket case?

Is the answer pills? I don’t really want to take Zoloft while I’m pregnant, especially since I already take enough pills to control the morning sickness. Or is the answer just letting myself feel this way while I’m sick and pregnant, and trying to do something if I still feel bad later?

It’s just such a slippery slope for someone with a history of depression. I know it isn’t unheard of for physical symptoms to turn on the depression switch.

I just don’t know what to do some days. I know I should be happy, I have my longed-for pregnancy, my healthy toddler, my husband. Why do I feel so overwhelmed?

Thursday, March 10, 2005

Ryan

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

So Much For Intuition

Yesterday was the big day, and everything went great. Of course they make me sit there with a bladder that was about to explode until about half an hour past when my appointment was scheduled, but I guess that’s to be expected.

Boy, was I wrong. Did I say boy? Because that’s what we’re having! It was awesome, watching him jump and kick, he was so active! It looked like he was doing aerobic kick boxing. He is already measuring a week ahead, but that’s just because we have very big babies. Since Thomas was 10 lbs. 1 ounce, I’m a little afraid of how big this one is going to be.

So much for this woman’s intuition. I was right about Thomas being a boy, big deal. Like I said to my sister, it doesn’t really matter much what I think if I’m wrong. I thought for sure it was a girl in there!

After thinking about it though, it may just be that I have a hard time picturing myself with any other little boy but Thomas. In my mind he is perfect, and we can’t do any better. I guess a girl was just easier for me to imagine, since I don’t have one yet.

Now I can’t wait to meet him. I wonder if he’ll look a lot like Thomas, or if he’ll be completely different. We’ve already settled on Ryan for his first name.

I’ll post a picture of the ultrasound later, I think I left it downstairs. The tech was very aloof (they usually are) and didn’t really take a lot of time to show us the baby. I guess what’s amazing to us is just another day at work for these people. I guess we just have to take what we can get!

I’m 18 weeks and 3 days today, by the way. Baby was measuring 19 weeks and 2 days as of yesterday.

Friday, March 04, 2005

Friday Again, At Last.

AFP results came back,

Absolutely

Perfect.

Sigh. I knew they would.

I went to see my two newest nieces yesterday. They are beautiful, of course, and very tiny. I think they are going to have to get a little bigger before I can tell who they look like.

Everything is going smoothly. On Monday, Ed and I go in for the BIG ultrasound, the one where we hope to find out the sex of our baby.

We have another healthy, wiggling, baby. I feel good. I am the mother of two. And to think I once doubted that I would be where I am right now...everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to be great.

Imaginary Lines