A common theme of pregnancy should be purging. Clearly, I've spent a lot of time hugging the toilet. But beyond the literal, I've spent a lot of time in the last few months purging myself of my bad habits, my material possessions, my years of anti-pregnancy prejudice.
Today I was cleaning my room and I was finding things from high school, like perfumes and lotions, pictures, random junk. It felt good to throw that all away. Before I moved from my ghetto house, I got rid of loads of stuff, and I like the feeling of lightening the load, even as physically and emotionally, my "load" is getting heavier. I'm trying to get rid of all this junk I've accumulated so it makes it easier to move when the baby comes and to adjust to this new person that I have to become.
Sometimes I'm happy that the relationships I do have now aren't based on drinking and being stupid. But it is also sad because once in a while I just want to get drunk and not feel sad or self conscious and dance and be stupid. I want to feel the confidence boost and the lack of inhibition that only drunkeness can bring, like damn right, I can get anyone in this room.
It's sad to realize how much of a support alcohol becomes. How awkward I feel in social situations without the comforting presence of a drink in my hand. Something to swirl, to drink during lulls in conversation. To drink away the nervousness, then purge myself of the stupidity in the morning, swearing I'll never do this again.
Deciding to have a child is just such a huge decision. It's not something that I can now wake up and say, well, I'm kind of over this, like a haircolor or something. I wish I could purge myself of this gnawing self doubt that cuts through me too much. Can I really do this? Am I making the right choice? Do I have the patience, the maturity, the maternal instinct, enough for what I'm choosing to do?
But no one wants to talk about that. There's still this crazy notion that all women have this warm maternal side and since I'm having (and keeping) my baby, I should be 100% committed to this. Hell no, I've got doubts. Every day. And they're not going to go away. I'm sure even when she's in college and I'm thinking about her going out and being drunkand stupid I'm going to wonder, Did I make the right choice? Did I just totally fuck up this other humans life? But no one wants to talk about that.
As I clean out my closets, I need to toss out a few of those skeletons hanging in the back, but I'm not ready to tackle those. I'm not ready to face a lot of these emotions that are lurking under the surface. The things that make me cry myself to sleep at night. The things that run through my dreams every damn night. Those will be there until I'm ready to face them. i hope I can throw those out sometime. I guess I'm just not ready to yet. I'll settle for an organized bookshelf and a clean floor for now.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
An Alternative to Crying...
Meh, maybe an addition to crying is more appropriate? I'm horrible with routines, which is why brushing my teeth, exercising and journalling all fail as daily activities for me. I want to track things that happen during this crazy time in my life, so hopefully this will be a suitable alternative.
Right now, I'm 24 weeks pregnant, 23 years old, just quit my good job in lovely Northern California and moved in with my parents in shitty Ohio. Living the dream.
The last year of my life seems like it was lived by 3 or 4 different people, all doing wildly different things, but ultimately all leading me up to where I am now. I think back to last February & at that point I was either in a reclusive stage brought on by the stress of writing my senior thesis, or maybe in the middle of a months-long drinking binge...probably the latter. Graduating college was always my biggest life goal. Putting myself through a decent school, getting good grades, being involved, having a social life...I was (am) damn proud of myself. It seemed like writing my senior project was the most stressful, life-consuming task that I could ever take on...
Then I joined Teach for America. Mentally, emotionally, physically, it drained me. Moving across the country, starting a career that I had no training in, being responsible for educating 22 little people, for whom education may be the most important factor in allowing them to escape the poverty & violence too prevalent in Oakland...it seemed like the most stressful, life consuming task that I could ever take on.
Living in the ghetto of Oakland, hating my job, being 3000 miles away from my support system. Then I found out I was pregnant. Now I think about raising a child on my own and I am pretty sure this really is the most stressful, life consuming task I could take on. I'm horrified and excited and optimistic and terrified...literally every emotion I could feel, I do.
I'm angry a lot and it's difficult to talk about. It's obvious that the father of my child is a piece of shit, but it doesn't change the fact that a little person that is 50% him is growing inside me. It doesn't change the sense of rejection & abandonment that I feel...maybe if I was better or different he would want to be a part of this? It's hard cause I go back and forth so much. On one hand, I know it's probably better he isn't involved. But then I think about the series of bizarre events that lead to the conception of my daughter & I think, stupidly, maybe this is supposed to happen? How different would my life be if I had a partner that cared about me and our child?
I'm really lucky to have so many people in my life that do want to be part of my family...biological or not. Without them, this wouldn't be possible. Having an amazing family & such supportive friends is the best thing that could happen, but when I'm waking up in the middle of the night, still pregnant and alone, it doesn't make this situation hurt any less. When I think about everything that I either can't do or wil have to put off or work so much harder because of being a single mom, of course I am bitter and want to ruin his life. When I think of my daughter wondering why she doesn't have a dad, my heart fucking breaks. And I know it's for the best...but damn, this is a lot to take on.
So much change, so many emotions, so much responsibility & uncertainty. It's pretty overwhelming.
Right now, I'm 24 weeks pregnant, 23 years old, just quit my good job in lovely Northern California and moved in with my parents in shitty Ohio. Living the dream.
The last year of my life seems like it was lived by 3 or 4 different people, all doing wildly different things, but ultimately all leading me up to where I am now. I think back to last February & at that point I was either in a reclusive stage brought on by the stress of writing my senior thesis, or maybe in the middle of a months-long drinking binge...probably the latter. Graduating college was always my biggest life goal. Putting myself through a decent school, getting good grades, being involved, having a social life...I was (am) damn proud of myself. It seemed like writing my senior project was the most stressful, life-consuming task that I could ever take on...
Then I joined Teach for America. Mentally, emotionally, physically, it drained me. Moving across the country, starting a career that I had no training in, being responsible for educating 22 little people, for whom education may be the most important factor in allowing them to escape the poverty & violence too prevalent in Oakland...it seemed like the most stressful, life consuming task that I could ever take on.
Living in the ghetto of Oakland, hating my job, being 3000 miles away from my support system. Then I found out I was pregnant. Now I think about raising a child on my own and I am pretty sure this really is the most stressful, life consuming task I could take on. I'm horrified and excited and optimistic and terrified...literally every emotion I could feel, I do.
I'm angry a lot and it's difficult to talk about. It's obvious that the father of my child is a piece of shit, but it doesn't change the fact that a little person that is 50% him is growing inside me. It doesn't change the sense of rejection & abandonment that I feel...maybe if I was better or different he would want to be a part of this? It's hard cause I go back and forth so much. On one hand, I know it's probably better he isn't involved. But then I think about the series of bizarre events that lead to the conception of my daughter & I think, stupidly, maybe this is supposed to happen? How different would my life be if I had a partner that cared about me and our child?
I'm really lucky to have so many people in my life that do want to be part of my family...biological or not. Without them, this wouldn't be possible. Having an amazing family & such supportive friends is the best thing that could happen, but when I'm waking up in the middle of the night, still pregnant and alone, it doesn't make this situation hurt any less. When I think about everything that I either can't do or wil have to put off or work so much harder because of being a single mom, of course I am bitter and want to ruin his life. When I think of my daughter wondering why she doesn't have a dad, my heart fucking breaks. And I know it's for the best...but damn, this is a lot to take on.
So much change, so many emotions, so much responsibility & uncertainty. It's pretty overwhelming.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)