Friday, January 19, 2007

I've been so seriously overwhelmed this past week. While I can feel Schmooker moving all day long (she likes to dig her little heels into my side), I don't feel like I'm about to have a real baby. We had another ultrasound scan today, and the tech let us see a really lovely view of her face - her little eyes and nose (even the nostrils!) and her fat little lips - but it still doesn't feel real. I worry about why this is.

I can't picture the birth at all. It all seems so surreal. And also so far away. Maybe it's just been a surreal week, with Scott off work and me being exhausted and over-emotional and all the baby washing done. Maybe time feels like it's stopped a little. But I just feel very un-ready for all this to happen. I don't feel like I can do this. I'm tired and worn out and depressed and stressed out and I can't imagine adding a human baby to the mix. Scott's not feeling anything like I am so he's finding it hard to relate to me. He's very ready to meet his daughter and become a daddy. I'm lagging behind, mostly just feeling apprehensive and unprepared. Not to mention ridiculously emotional, which he can't get his head around at all.

It's not just the pregnancy that's stressing me out. I feel like the whole world is too much to handle right now. Yet when I try to ennumerate all the things I'm concerned about, they fall the floor in only a tiny pile of useless scraps. There is nothing major or pressing in reality that is causing me such exhaustion, just small things that feel bigger than life. Well, that's not really being fair to my situation. I DO have several things on my plate right now that really are a big deal and not trivial at all: getting a mortgage, trying to find a house and coping with the deaths and illnesses of people I care about. But then, on top of that, I feel flooded with the everyday tasks of simply existing: making dinners, keeping house, trying to sleep, maintaining relationships...

The way I'm talking, you'd think I was in transition!

However, the birth is still very far away. Or very far away as I see it. And nothing has been officially decided - there's been no date set for the section and because of the section, I've dropped the habits I'd taken up of preparing for labour and anticipating it. So it all feels like the pregnancy has stopped. The climax will never come. The watching and waiting is over. My body is in the hands of doctors, and it no longer has a job to do.

Of course, I know in my head that it continues to grow and nurture a baby, but the feelings that before accompanied this beautiful knowledge no longer comfort me. Instead, I trudge tiredly through each day, crying over everything and feeling alone and powerless. No doubt my mom would tell me to 'buck up', but if she did, I'd probably, you know, cry some more. I don't know how I'm going to cope for the rest of this pregnancy and when I've suddenly got a helpless baby to keep safe, comforted and alive. I want to give up.

But Scott tells me that's not an option. I wish he could take this on for me, just for a few days. A good night's sleep and a large gin and cranberry would do me good.

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