Weariness

You reach a certain point in your pregnancy when you would love to don a tshirt that states, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give damn." This week, I reached that point. Have a pointless question? Need to test my boundaries? Would like to rethink the baby's name? Well I have lost my capacity for bullshit. I defer to the shirt. This may make me look short of patience, obstinate and, at times, grouchy with those who cross me. But I prefer the word "firm". I am busy perfecting "firm" and am putting the finishing touches on "the look". Because sometimes that's all I have energy for anymore...a look. So it'd better be good.

Those of you who have not the child-producing capacity (ahem, men, ahem) don't get this and can be pretty insensitive to it. I'm sure they're thinking something along the lines of "oh suck it up". Trust me. I'd love to suck it up. I'd love to plow through the housework, meal preparation and freezing, endless loads of laundry and toddler tantrums with a serene pregnancy glow. Barefoot, too. However, when climbing the stairs has me resting at the top for 30 seconds lest I pass out; when bending over sends me into contractions; when I'm battling my 4th sinus "thing" since February; when a ligament in my groin spasms and sends me to my knees throughout dinner prep; and when a healthy sneeze or belly laugh forces me to cross my legs or reap the consequences...it's a little hard to "suck it up". Basically, I defer to the shirt. Think what you will, I don't give a damn.

**Ari sings "Shimmy Shake" along with the Wiggles while I type this. He doesn't care if I don't give a damn.**

All of this isn't to say that I am ready to have this child. Sometimes the thought of a second child terrifies me and sometimes I am overwhelmed with curiosity and a desire to meet her. Ah, the dichotomies of parenthood. They begin even in utero. And, really, there are only three things that frighten me in respect to this blessed event: a) parenting two children - when I previously believed Ari took everything I had; b) the possibility of another hemorrhage; and c) postpartum depression. People frequently say that you fear the unknown. However, I don't. I fear the known. I know what it feels like to give your all to a child and know that it's still not enough. I know the fear of hemorrhaging after birth. And I know the darkness of postpartum depression. I'm taking steps to prevent and/or deal with each of these things but how much can you prepare? Will nature even let you? Sometimes you just have to trust and take the leap.

I think of people I know and love who are taking leap after leap after leap. My grandma, who is giving up her home, her things of 70 years, and moving to a retirement home. For good. A friend who just moved to Chicago to begin a new job and a new life. A strong woman who will follow her husband to a new state and start all over. Someone who is beginning his life again with someone new. An amazing woman still healing from the sting of loss. Leap after leap after leap. Life.

Another dear friend of mine wrote in her blog about a man who predicts that in 35 years we, as a human race, will have merged with our technology and may be able to overcome death. He did not state that this is a positive thing. And even so...even if this is true someday...can it detract, make less of, the Life we follow here? Our Path? Can our knowing that death or struggle is not inevitable make these leaps of faith less significant? Maybe. Our Lives are about lessons learned and choices made. Consequences. And what if, someday, there aren't that many consequences left? That may be a scary day for our children and I'm not sure I want that.

This has become more of a monologue on the virtues of technology v. the sacredness of Life than a rant on the weariness of pregnancy. And that's okay. I guess, when it comes to the former, time will tell. Hmmm, looks like a give a damn after all. Rats.