19 April 2012

Something Sweet or Something Savory

I don't get cravings, which is a little bit of a let down if I'm being honest. I was really looking forward to the excuse to spontaneously desire some food so badly that it would make my husband need to drive to the store at one a.m. But no, I just have rational needs concerning food intake. I want something sweet or something savory. But doesn't everyone?

When I was a little girl I loved to eat fruit at the bottom yogurt. It was so exciting to eat little bites of plain yogurt in order to get to the Indiana Jones treasure trove of syrupy fruit! I hadn't thought of it in years, but this morning my husband gave me a coffee mug with my favorite Vanilla Honey Yogurt and after a few bites? I discovered strawberries! It was like a magical throw back.

I'm one of those people who loves to listen to loud music in the car. One of those people who likes surround sound and a volume on my media player that upsets the people sitting next to me on a bus. It's not that I like loud music, I don't. Loud music is just loud. It's that I like to feel surrounded by my music. Like it's enveloping me, taking me to another place entirely. Often times the playlist you hear obnoxiously leaking from my headphones is made up of my favorite operatic numbers. Other times it's piano pieces or soft movie scores. Then there is all the worship music, the occasional country themed day, some reinvent-the-world hip hop, but very rarely is it ever rock music and I don't listen to metal. I simply enjoy escaping into my music. Shutting out the whole world and just melting into that sweet resonance. My own sweet resonance.

I'm sitting on the floor of what might be consider my living room, I say might only due to the fact that we currently occupy a tiny little studio house. And despite the wonderful sound technology offered to me here in the comforts of my own home, I have headphones on. Plugged into my phone and blaring at something too close to full volume to be entirely appropriate. I have fresh squeezed lemonade sitting just right of the computer and can't help but wish I was writing all of this on paper to be published in a journal rather than online. Technology is amazing, but what artisanship have we lost? Too much.

And still I blog...

Yesterday was a day filled with little kicks and squirming inside of me. From the moment I woke up to my last blurry eyelash filled vision. Today there is little movement, just the occasional twist to remind me that I love this new found belly. I'm so curious about the little life that exists therein. What will s/he be like? Like mom; passionate to a fault about too many things, overly forgiving, compassionate, a bit flakey and slightly OCD? Or more like dad; excitable, distant with newcomers and those who've not earned trust, dependable, deeply and fervently loving, loyal and immoderately worried? Or some terribly dysfunctional and yet probable mixture of both.

Becoming a parent is everything people say it is - and so much more. You can prepare yourself for the tasks; diapers, clothing, burping, doctors visits, discipline. But there is no way to ready your heart for the love. It's not that it's more than what you've known, because you've probably known a lot of great and wonderful love, it's just... ineffable. I can't imagine the wreck I'll be once baby is born. Your heart walking around outside your body indeed.

Mark and my plan to travel remain a solid fixture in our minds. There is so much pressure and demand from society to do anything but follow our hearts. Go to college, get yourself a career, buy a house. When they find out we are under 25 with technically part time work and rent a little mother-in-law in the countryside with a baby on the way? The looks are scathing, or at the very least, scornful. The haught of superiority sets in on their manicured faces in an attempt to shame us and make them feel better about their lives. And what's disappointing, is that those looks come so often from people that are meant to be allies, meant to be friends.

No, we did not live our lives according to what you think is appropriate or successful. But I've never read about anyone who did the things you're asking of me. I've only ever read wonderful and terrific stories and adventures about those people who went against the grain. Those who followed their dreams for better or for worse! And yah, sometimes it's for worse. But that is our decision to make, our mistakes to take us to new places. When my life is over, I want to look over it lovingly. Each tear, each triumph, each awkward and difficult moment, each horror, and each wonder. I want to look at it and know that I was happy and joyful and lived! I want to look back at my life and know that I wouldn't have done anything differently, not because I didn't make mistakes! but because I did. And they made my life the adventure it was!

I hear the scoffing and it hurts, but I see how much I love my life? And I know I'm doing the right things. Because even when I am tired, frustrated with my body, and itching to get out of this country? I am happy. Snuggling on the couch with my husband while we watch a slew of vastly different television shows, makes all the difference. Gardening in the sunshine and then crawling into the hammock with Marko so we can nap, makes all the difference. Fresh squeezed lemonade, makes all the difference. Scarlet by Brooke Fraser and Revelation Song by Kari Jobe bleeding out of my headphones in the middle of my living room, makes all the difference. Little kicks to the inside of my stomach, makes all the difference. I love my life. I love these choices. I love, I love, I love! Stop trying to tell me I should be doing anything differently because if you were half as happy as I am even on a day where I am teary and upset? You would recognize my joy and let it be.

I'm craving something sweet...

17 April 2012

Half Way There

I am officially closer to my due date than conception date. On the roadmap that is pregnancy, I look ahead of me and feel slightly overwhelmed that I'm only half done. It's that halfway point in a marathon where you realize that as far as you've come? You have that much left. Yikes...

Don't get me wrong, I am ecstatic that I feel baby moving around and doing some serious yoga inside my stomach. I can't wait to meet the little one who has utterly and completely flipped my whole world upside down! I'm excited to snuggle, cuddle, smother, and love on the child growing inside me. And the miracle of life is not lost on me, it's fucking magical. My baby grew and inch this week - it's a pro. Sometimes I pretend it's a Super Nova inside my womb, fantastic Hubble photographs and all.

But, here's the thing: I'm going crazy. Between all the crying and low self esteem, I'm surprised I can even leave my bed - much less my house. I feel like a balloon. I'm wearing pants that are double the size I was before I was pregnant and the only consolation I receive from that is that they don't quite fit yet. But they will, because I'm only half done. My breast are literally in my face and seem to be always trying to fall out of whatever bra I've decided to cage them in for the day. I get good solid kicks to the bladder whenever I attempt my beloved yoga or walks, let's not even talk about running. And the damn doctors insist I get on a scale every month after I've already driven all the way to Bellevue, usually with a full bladder. I'm a bloated puppet.

I think the hardest thing is the self esteem. It's not just the roller coaster hormones, I've already had my ability to parent called into question and baby isn't even here. I have had to really rethink some of the friendships in my life and whether they are healthy or not - this is not the time I would have chosen to make that decision. But I have someone entering my life who will not just look up to me, but be entirely influenced by me and those I surround myself by. Some people, aren't making the cut. And weirdly, it has nothing to do with whether they have their shit together or not, and everything to do with how they treat others. Specifically me, but other people as well. I refuse for my child to think it's okay to treat people like doormats or that being treated like one qualifies as friendship.

It sucks that now is the time I'm realizing who I can actually count on. I'm overemotional and I really need good people in my life to depend on, but better now than later. Mark has been an absolute pillar for me, I have no idea how he puts up with all the "I'm fat" tears and my constant frustration with being in the USA. I don't understand how he still finds me attractive or scoops me up to take me to bed to cuddle. I can't comprehend how he manages to curtail his constant worries to deal with my newfound ability to stress out over just about every topic there is. He's my superhero and even Batman can't hold a candle.

I've been blessed with new people cropping up in my life and old friends stepping up - sometimes in ways they don't even realize. Human kindness knows no limits except those we place on it, and for some reason we are quick to put a harness and reigns over it's love as if we are concerned it might escape us. What we forget is that it can only grow in it's freedom.

I am plotting my hegira. I will abscond with my husband and child, leaving this "American Dream" in the dirt where it belongs. I will love my husband with a kind of love not found in statistics. I will raise my little one without the equal opportunity expectations this country places on so many shoulders, so that they might decide for themselves what path to put themselves on. We will create a new dream.

Being pregnant sucks, but trials are what make us who we are. I would be lying if I told you it was great and I believe in truth, as unpopular as it may be. Pregnancy is long, difficult, and it wears you down. You get one awe filled moment for every two miserable days and it's worth it. It's difficult and demanding, but what would it be without that? Sunshine, rainbows, and kittens? Then what would I appreciate? Nothing. I can pretend like that would be better, but it wouldn't. I don't love it, but I will. I will love it because of what I get out of it. Because of everything I have learned, because of all the things I will learn. The marathon is only half way finished, and then the real race begins.