I keep getting asked if I am excited. No. I am not excited, actually. I am suffering day by day and would much rather have a puppy, in all honesty. It's all I can do to make sure that I have enough liquid and carbohydrates in my system to fuel a space shuttle and shuffle around with a stomach ache. I cannot think about baby decorations or clothes or toys or anything baby. It makes me want to puke.
The second most common question is, "Was it planned?" This is where another confession enters the stage. No. It was not 'planned' but it was definitely expected. Which sounds irresponsible so I always leave that part out and just say, "No."
I always say "No" because 'planned' entails taking folic acid and prenatals 3 months before we stopped using contraception. 'Planned' means having baby names picked out, decor all ready to go and riding a wave of enthusing joy of starting a new chapter in our lives. 'Planned' means financially stable with insurance. 'Planned' means on our way to buying a house of our own that we can bring our little bundle of joy home to. 'Planned' is definitely NOT the word I would use. It connotates responsibility and choices deliberately made. Maybe even a 'plan', hence the word 'planned.' None of that was present in the making of our baby. Which is surprising, because I have always been a planner. I have always known where I was going to be a year from the present at all times and what I was going to be doing. I have proof. There are multiple lists and diagrams of my life in several journals where I have written ideas and goals and then categorized them into months. The last one I made ended in July. Get married.
Once you link your life to someone else's it's a little harder to keep up with your own plans 'cause now there are two people to consider and your life revolves around taking care of one another which ultimately means that it revolves around a job. Which can change quickly. So I threw that to the wind when we weren't sure if we would be going home to Oregon or if we would stay in Utah for a few more years. Things and circumstances change so quickly that if you get your heart set on one direction and all of a sudden have to switch it up it creates some rifts that may as well be avoided.
And in all honesty, I never could have guessed a year ago that we would still be in Utah. That Steven would have a job that could support us with one income, that I would have a job that I love, that we would be renting a little house with green counter-tops, and that we would be expecting our first step into the unknown and never conquered territory of parenthood. Who would have guessed? And everything in between? I never would have dreamed up. Life is really too unpredictable at this point to try to make a plan. Not only is it too unpredictable, but I am part of a wagon train riding into the wild west. I am on my way to uncharted territory and I don't even know what to expect. When the future is so blank because there is no scaffolding to do because there is no prior knowledge of anything, what can you do? Nothing but ride out the next wave headed toward shore. All I know right now is that I am going to be babysitting for the rest of my life but the difference is that I cannot leave at the end of the day. Sounds a little bit terrifying.
So, sure, our baby wasn't 'planned' but it was definitely 'expected.' I mean, I am no dummy. I know that if you get cooties in ya than there is a pretty good chance of one of them turning into a lima bean. But I wasn't expecting it to happen so fast and it was definitely not something that we had thoroughly thought about. Which is probably better, because if you think about something like that too long than it's bound to become too scary and never happen. So we just kinda did what we did and didn't worry about it and then things turned a little more serious. Like peeing on a stick and two lines appearing kind of serious. And then details start to unfold and everything is going to be ok, if I can ever stop throwing up.
The only thing I can relate it to is bridge jumping. You're in your suit with your shoes strapped on tight so that your feet don't sting when they break the water. You're standing on the rail, looking down into the deep water. You can feel the wind and the sun with your extra-heightened senses. You know everything is going to be ok, but seriously, who does this for the thrill? No one. You do it for the accomplishment at the end as you break the surface with your body and then bob back up for air. You're never really ready. You could stand up on that rail for hours while people try to help you count down. But finally, you just gotta jump, ready or not. Midway between six and five. When no one is expecting. When you, yourself, aren't even expecting. Your legs crouch and you spring off. You can't let your mind get involved. That's what this is like. So I went ahead and jumped.
No comments:
Post a Comment