May 15th 2013
Last week Andy returned to the stage as a bass player for My Graveyard Jaw. He played his first show at Siberia to a really great crowd. It was wonderful to see him playing live music again. He is so talented and I really hope he continues because it makes him genuinely happy. I enjoyed the show but the cigarette smoke was a bit overwhelming. I’ve officially become “that” pregnant girl. Oh well, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
There were a few days in between our initially offer on the house and the seller’s final acceptance. Buying a house is stressful, especially for someone like me who lacks patience when it comes to waiting on a decision. We had to go back and forth a few times until a mutual agreement was made, all the while I tried to figure out the seller’s next move (a futile exercise). Adrienne did all the hard work, which I am very grateful for. I spent more time in the gym this week than normal while trying not to worry about what would happen. We are now able to move onto the next step of the home buying process which is scheduling a home inspection. I’m trying not to get too excited about this place in the case that it is deemed “completely fucked” by the inspector. As much as I would like to purchase a house that could be remodeled to my exact liking, I haven’t the time, the energy or the funding required for a situation such as that.
My energy levels are slowly starting to increase and I’m very happy to begin to feel more normal. I still find myself more worn out than usual at the end of the day, but I’ve been experiencing very little nausea, so I think it’s a fair trade. Although I’ve been feeling better I’ve been unsure about committing to the new yoga schedule at Swan River. I have been teaching a class I call “Dirty South Yoga” every Wednesday night from 8:30 to 10:00 pm for over a year now. I know eventually I will have to take time off, but I’ve been reluctant to give up my class just yet. I was pondering a solution, when I decided to try to find someone to teach my class every other week, so that they can eventually take over my class. Tracey Duncan offered to help me out. She has a style similar to mine (and she also plays good music), so I was very relieved that she is going to help me out in the future when the schedule changes on June 1st.
I suppose the biggest news of the week is that I finally went public with my pregnancy on social media. I figured Mother’s Day was the perfect opportunity to let the cat out of the bag. I also wanted to have the blog started, so that people who were interested would be able to read about how everything happened. I was grateful to receive so many positive comments and relieved that no one responded with any personal questions about my choice to have Lee Kyle as the father. It certainly made everything about this experience feel more “real” when it became public knowledge. I was shocked at the number of people who read the blog last week and how many of them took the time to message or call me to express their support. It’s gratifying to know that I’m not the only one who finds my life interesting.
The 13th of May would have been my father’s 84th birthday. I actually surprised myself without feeling too terribly sad that day. I miss my father immensely, but the truth is he had passed away about a year before his actual body died. In the end, he was living in a mental and physical state that was against even his own personal wishes. Still, it saddens me to think that he will never get a chance to meet my child. While I was able to keep it together on Monday, last night was a completely different story.
I know that pregnancy comes with its own level of mood swings, and I feel for the most part I have not suffered too badly with them. Last night, though, I was completely overwhelmed with sadness. I was standing at the sink washing dishes when all of a sudden I was crying hysterically. I thought immediately of my deceased parents and how every once in a while I miss them so much I can hardly breathe. Then I began thinking about my own role as a parent, and fear began blossoming in my mind. I’m sure it is normal for most parents to worry about whether or not they will be able to raise a child without the child ending up all fucked up and/or hating them. I have these feelings occasionally, but I’m usually able to dismiss my fears with some rationalization. This time that didn’t work. I found myself texting a friend, completely out of the blue, the following :
“I’m going to be a terrible mother. Look what happened with my mom, she ended up killing two people and herself.”
“I’m afraid my child is going to hate me. What if I’m angry all the time or I try to be the ‘cool’ parent who is just an outright embarrassment.”
“I’m afraid of how quickly everything is changing, including my body. What if no one ever wants to fuck me again? What if my boobs look like franken-titties after breastfeeding?”
“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Tell me I’m doing the right thing.”
He was nice enough to respond with the following:
“Everything you are feeling right now is completely normal, whether you believe it or not. It’s going to be alright and I think your concern about these things just proves you will make an excellent parent.”
I probably would have felt better if he had mentioned something about my fuckability not drastically decreasing but hey, at least I stopped crying. One problem at a time.