11.07.07
Quiet thoughts and prayers
You know what I realized today? I am really happy being back at work. Despite my exhaustion in the evenings, despite the nights I only get to spend and hour with Leila before she goes to bed, despite, despite, despite.
I have been put in charge of our (fairly extensive) cheese case at work, which I find interesting and stimulating and was praised for my Gouda arrangement today. Which made my day, because I though it looked good, too.
Things are going well lately, really well. I had one of those days, you know? The kind that you find yourself smiling for no reason? Or maybe it is because a customer asked me a question about a product that two weeks ago would have left me scratching my head and I was able to answer it today. Or maybe it was my walk in the fresh air at lunch. Or maybe it was the morning quickie.
I can feel the baby starting to grow, starting to press a hard little ball against my belt, mostly when I turn. It felt early to be happening already, and last time I thought I had been pregnant forever before I felt anything like that. But then I realized I am almost 13 weeks, and I fear every week of this pregnancy is going to go just as quickly (except the last three, I imagine).
I have been walking at lunch times, did I metion? At least a half an hour, but I try for forty minutes, three times (two realistically) a week. It is not much but it is something. It seems to have helped with my poop woes (you bet I am going there), which is nice, since I seem to have gone from no poops to all the poops but at the end of the day I have that ahhh, cleaned out feeling. Oh sorry, TMI? I also got a prenatal pilates videos which I have been doing a couple (trying for three) times a week as well. I do it in the evenings, which I find hard because I have never been an evening exerciser, but it is literally my only time, since DST have royally screwed Leilas internal clock up and she has not been sleeping any later than five thirty (and we still had a morning quickie!).
My noon-time walks give me some quiet time, too. Time to think about the new baby, to daydream. Did I mention I think this baby is a boy? I just cannot shake this little boy vibe and find myself hovering around blue sleepers more often than pink ones. I worry about having two children, in ways that I think every second monther-to-be does. Quite frankly, I worry that I will not have enough love for both of them, that I will love one of them less. I worry that I cannot love a boy like I love a girl, I worry that a little boy will grow up and love another woman more than he loves me. I worry that I don't know how to take care of a little boy (hello litle penises!). And then I think of a little bundle of blue in my arms, meeting a new child, nursing again, falling in love again, and I remember that before I had Leila, I did not think it was possible to love anything as much as I love her, so maybe I just need to trust in what every other mother of two tells me and believe that my heart will grow again.
When I think of a little boy, I smile. But I also fear. I fear because people seem to expect so much from boys, expecting them to be masculine and tough, and I dont want anyone to puch my child to a place they do not want to go. And I worry because I used to be a little girl, so at least when Leila comes home broken hearted at eight years old because of what the other kids in her class called her, I was there, you know? I know what it feels like to be a hurt little girl. But what do I know about boys? And then what if something happens to Steve and I am left without a male role model? I mean obviously there are a ton of other fears relating to that issue, but you know? And then if we have a boy, and this really is our last child, my last pregnancy, which Steve says he wants, and I think that probably I most likely want, Leila will never have a sister. Something that I always wanted, something I always wished I had. I was lucky enough to find a best friend, a maid of honour, but I know most people are not that lucky. Part of me so desperately wants Leila to have a sister, and another part of me thinks of my brothers and how much I love them, how I would never trade them for anyone else in the world. And how I would not have traded anything about my childhood either. But then, a boy, oh a little boy.
So there are all these things I think about, and there are more, but tonight is not the time to write about them. There are worries and fears about friends, quiet prayers as I walk or when I lie awake in bed in the middle of the night (which happens often these days). There are sweet moments with Steve, wuiet moments, and some fights. There are all of the things he does for me. There is my dog, and my daughter, who babbles and babbles and never stops. She makes me laugh when she dances, when she says mooooooooo, when she coyly looks over she shoulder at me and I pretend I am going to chase her and she tries to run but cannot quite move her feet as fast as she wants and always ends up toppling over.
But now the laundry waits, although it most likely will not get done (again) tonight, and we are headed to Nova Scotia for the weekend which will include a dinner and movie on Saturday night, some hikes up local hills and Steve most likely getting completely soused on Rememberance Day.
wunderwuman at 6:43 p.m.