Fire in the sky.
August 21st 2013
26 weeks pregnant.
Sometimes I feel like time is flying by so quickly. Except when I am at work, then it just slowly drags along. Recently I have been making a mental list of all the things I’d like to do and people that I would like to spend time with before Wilder arrives. I am on a countdown. Life will inevitably become “before” and “after” Wilder’s birth. The list of things to do isn’t as fun as one might imagine. It mostly involves reading more books, writing more often and trying to enjoy the spontaneity of life in the present. So many of our friends who are parents warn us that it becomes impossible to just pick up and do something without planning. Babies ruin that aspect of your life, from what we’ve been told. So nowadays we sometimes get into the truck and just go for a ride, just because we can.
Keeping up with friends is always something that I have attempted to do. It has become a lot more difficult to do so while pregnant, as I have certainly become more of a homebody. I sometimes stress over my inability to be available for every friend’s function or invite, but I have to accept my limitations and (perhaps begrudgingly) not exhaust myself. I also feel myself naturally drifting away from some relationships and while this is always a little sad, it is a necessary part of growth. I was speaking with Misty a few days ago about my misgivings and fears of losing close connections to others once Wilder is monopolizing my time, and she made me feel better about the situation. She reiterated that these things have a way of sorting themselves out and that she highly doubts that I would let my personal relationships diminish. I thought about it and know that I am way too much of an extrovert to wither into my own solitude. I have always sought the attention of others in positive and negative ways, and there is a huge part of me that needs to be a social. I truly adore my friends and find such joy and inspiration in them that I can’t imagine long periods of time without them. They are my family.
Daphne recently celebrated her birthday and she had a wonderful dinner party with a table full of guests. It was a lovely evening of reminiscing about embarrassing drunken tales and sweet memories. I was struck by how in New Orleans we take the time to really make celebrations out of not only the big occasions but the little ones as well. It may be hormones, but there are times when I am so in love with the people around me that I feel as if my heart could burst. I wonder if I’ll feel this way about Wilder. I think it will probably be a million times stronger, if that is even possible. I often am grateful that my diverse friends have taught me that there is no limit to the love I am able to procure and disperse. I have enough for them all. It is also such a pleasure to be a little bit older and the tiniest bit wiser, so that friendships have become more natural and drama-free. I spent many years surrounding myself with insecure women who took all the fun out of friendship. And while I know I have not always been the best person in this department (drug/alcoholic abuse, anger management) I have truly attempted to be a better person in all my relationships, including my friendships. I am grateful that I am going to have a son, if for no other reason than he will be spared the complexities of youth female-female friendships and rivalries.
As the weeks move by, I find myself worrying more about money than I had in the past. I started adding up the things from my registry that are necessary and was shocked at the expense of it all. Babies require many things. Even if you plan to breastfeed, as I do, you still need a plethora of expensive accoutrements. Breast pump, bottles, storage bags, breast pads (so you aren’t perpetually walking around in wet t-shirt contest wear). Not to mention diapers and wipes. Oh, and I just found out that New Orleans’ only cloth diaper service will no longer be in business as of December. Super convenient, since I am due late November. If any of you are looking to start a new business, here’s your in. I have spent more time than I would like to admit reading about the different types of cloth diapers available. After researching, I am down for the all-in-one type. They look to be the easiest, albeit some of the most expensive. Who knows, we may throw in the dirty cloth diaper and end up using disposables, but I intend to at least try.
Sometimes I get frustrated because it appears that Andy doesn’t stress about the whole money issue as much as I do. I don’t really know what I think the proper solution would be. Honestly, it seems pretty stupid to wish that he would also be stressed. Two people worrying does not a solution make…or some shit. I suppose that perhaps I feel invalidated in my fears of monetary demise when he just shrugs off the cost of things. I also have been the one making all the large purchases lately, and even though I know “we are in this together” I am painfully aware that all the debt is in my name. At times I struggle with trusting people to do what I would consider the right thing. I know in my heart that Andy would never do anything to personally sabotage my finances, or dismiss his responsibility in the monetary contribution of things, but when I am feeling the pressure of mounting bills my mind often goes back to the fact that I am truly the legally responsible one. For the house, the car, the kid. I have expressed this to him and in his very non-confrontational way he has pointed out that he will do whatever it takes to make me feel more secure. He really is a great guy. Well, 97% of the time. This past week, when I had a slight breakdown over some complications concerning my work group health insurance, he tried his best to calm my fears. He isn’t the best at comforting me, but at least he makes a diligent effort. I am hoping things will get cleared up and I won’t end up getting screwed out of the insurance, but I sadly wouldn’t be surprised if it happened. Hopefully I’ll know more next week.
When I’m not facing a crisis, we have been enjoying spending more time together and getting used to “living” in the same structure. While we still have maintained a lot of autonomy (so important to me), it is pretty nice having him around. I especially appreciate when I come home to find he has helped with some mundane housework or made something delicious to eat. We also get to spend more time together due to sheer proximity. Our sex life has improved, or should I say, it has come back into existence. I will admit pregnancy has not made me feel sexy in the least. The added weight, the new aches and pains and the levels of exhaustion from what used to be simply daily activities have made me somewhat unapproachable. I have never really feared that Andy would find me unattractive though, since he’s always been into Rubenesque females. I was actually bigger than I am now at many points during our relationship. Still, it is hard for me to get in the mood when I’m experiencing a lack of self-confidence, in more than just my body but also fears of parenthood and financial failure. Thankfully I have overcome some of these mental setbacks and I think we have found a new rhythm in the new house (no pun intended). I’ll be honest, I was getting a bit tired of fucking myself.
The most exciting thing that occurred this week, other than a few orgasms that I didn’t produce alone is that there was an explosion/fire at the chemical plant next door to my work. I’m still working for the same clients on the West bank in Marrero (it’ll be two years soon – ugh) handling Katrina damages. Most days are really boring, but on Tuesday as I was sitting at my desk entering numbers into a spreadsheet, I heard a loud “boom” which shook the windows. I asked my co-worker, “What the fuck was that?” And he replied, “Probably a sonic boom.” He then stood up and looked out the window and calmly added “or the chemical plant next door blowing up.” I was fucking terrified. I’m not even sure what all they do over there, but I know there are tanks full of toxic shit. I had an awful feeling, so I told him to pack up his shit because we were leaving. I ran to go to the ladies room, (this baby is constantly pushing on my bladder) and upon my return we could see all the workers scrambling and moving trucks of chemicals off the property. We were racing down the stairs to the parking lot as their warning alarm was ringing. I suppose the more honorable thing to do would have been to go to the main desk and alert someone, but honestly I just wanted to get the fuck out. Having grown up in the Parish surrounded by refineries, I know just how dangerous/toxic emergencies can be. I didn’t want Wilder to end up with a flipper because I inhaled some teratogen concoction. I checked on nola.com later and it seems that one container and a truck had exploded and caught fire. Only one person was injured and his condition was not critical, thankfully. They aren’t sure what started the fire, but things were business as usual the next day. Wouldn’t it be shitty luck if I had been blown up on the fucking West bank? Marrero, brah. What a way to go.