Oddly, the transition from Week 31 to Week 32 was really emotional for me. I had sort of been waiting for the moment that I would start the nesting phase of this whole thing. And the point where I started attempting to rearrange furniture and start cooking ridiculous amounts of food to store for the future when I have no time/patience/energy/brain power to cook. But the whole thing had been slow-going, it seemed. I was beginning to think that I might not start to “nest” and that I would be the first woman in the history of the whole Universe who was content to take it all in stride and not feel crazy stressed by the dust on the ceiling fan. Well, internet, I would like to announce that I have arrived in the nesting phase and no speck of dust is safe. I am a dust vigilante.
I feel that, even though my journey into manic cleaning mode was a little slow, I have made significant emotional progress (Read: had plenty of mini-breakdowns) during the last 32 weeks.
I think I have been weathering the emotional shit storm pretty well, considering that I can’t have a
glass bottle of wine to calm my nerves. In fact, I am surprised at the amount of composure I have maintained through some of this insanity.
The first few months of pregnancy were sort of a mourning period for me. That sounds bad, I know, but I honestly felt that my life would never be a) the same or b) as good and fun as it was before learning that I was going to be a mom. Because my attitude was, “Who the hell wants to be a mom? Like, for the rest of their life?!” Immature? Maybe. But totally how I felt and I won’t apologize.
After that, the transformation really started. I stopped wanting to punch people when they asked me questions about breastfeeding or when they had a Rum and Coke in my presence. I started feeling the baby move and that, somehow, became more important than celebrating my birthday in a crowded, smoky bar. (Even though I was still a little bitter about having to break tradition.) I started liking the way it felt to have something moving around in my belly. It felt like my little secret and I felt special to have been chosen to keep it. And I started not to mind the constant peeing and pain in my hips.
As I have inched into the third trimester, I have noticed the biggest of changes yet.
1. At the start of this whole thing, I felt abandoned by some of the people I considered to be friends. Some of them, good friends, even. Probably because I believe that people are inherently good and that when you are good to people, they will be good to you. I’ve learned that this is not necessarily true. And I am totally okay with it. I have taken an introspective look around and taken stock of the people in my life and have realized that the ones who are worth being there, are not going anywhere. And the ones who haven’t been there? Well, they never really meant anything to me to begin with. It was a shocking realization for me. But bringing a person into the world makes a girl pretty insightful, I think. Who knew?
2. I’ve realized that I can’t change the world. I can’t change that people are horrible to each other. But I can do my damndest to make sure that I raise a child who can be proud of herself. I can teach her to love people despite of their differences. I can teach her to be kind to people and to respect people and mostly, to stand up for herself and not let anyone beat her down. I can teach her to be an honorable, kind, strong and humane person. And that might not stop all the violence that happens every day, but I think, in a small way, it definitely, most definitely, will change the world.
3. I’ve begun to learn that nothing will ever be the same. And, despite what I thought at the beginning, that’s not so scary. Of course, the prospect of bringing a child into the world is terrifying and of course I sometimes see kids walking home from the high school bus stops dressed like New Jersey prostitutes and I weep for the state of humanity. And sure, I don’t really believe that young girls have any positive role models to look up to these days. And yeah, that is all really disturbing. But I know I can do this. I know that I will, for the rest of my life, put her needs, safety and security above that of my own. And I know that this, RIGHT HERE, is the most important thing that I will ever do in my life and I know that I want, more than anything to keep her safe. And that it will be my job to show her positivity and teach her how to be a woman, not Snooki‘s. I am totally up for that challenge. Because while I have made my share of bad decisions, that part of my life is over and I can recognize that I have made a hell of a lot of good decisions too. One of the best decisions I ever made is currently kicking me right in the bladder.
I’m still sorting through a lot at this point. I’m constantly in a tizzy, trying to rearrange things or clean out a closet. And I am, surely, driving MB to an early grave. I have been trying to explain this period of pregnancy to him in terms of what is going on in my head right now. And it is really difficult to put into words. I want a perfect environment to introduce Baby L into the world with. I want her to be happy. And I am aware that she won’t know if there are dirty dishes in the sink or if her closet isn’t strategically organized, but for some reason, I need all that stuff to be taken care of, so I can devote every solitary second to making her happy. Sure, right now she is content to do flips at night when I am trying to sleep or punch me in the ribs, but when she is here, man, things are going to be a whole lot different. And I really don’t want to have to worry about dirty dishes. You know?
Still working on balance. And in some ways, I am ready for her to be here YESTERDAY and, in other ways, I could use a few more months to get ready. 8 weeks to go, internet!