My heart aches for warmer days and an old house with far away neighbours. Wide plank floors and a wooden screen door off the kitchen. A big wrap around porch perfect for iced tea and late night chats. Tall trees perfect for naps in hammocks and summer picnics. A pond and an old wooden rowboat.
Pregnancy takes me to such a dark and melancholy place. Instead of filling up with guilt and hating myself for feeling what I'm feeling, as I did in the first pregnancy, I am rolling with the punches and sinking into the warmth of it all. Instead of wishing for this time to feel as miraculous as it actually is, I am tasting each and every aching morsel of it and just allowing everything to flow through me. Hot tears fall while inadequacies bubble up and intermingle with belly laughs and a calm strength.
I would like to say that I have learned to love myself more since the last time, but I haven't. My body is creating a human life complete with a spirit and all of its little teeth yet all I can do it look at how puffy my face looks and how dull my hair is. I always manage to put myself off with the lie that I will learn to love myself later; when I am done with pregnancy; when I am thinner; when my hair grows out. I would never lie to my husband or children the way I lie to myself nor would I deny them my love as I repeatedly do with myself.
Heather wrote about pregnancy as a long sea voyage we take to be united with the sweetest of souls and some of us just get more seasick than others and I like that way of looking at it. It made me think of the words I wrote early in my last pregnancy: "...the juices and hormones slosh around as I lay shipwrecked on the bed the way nature intended perhaps for a woman to surrender fully to her body. It brings her to her knees and reminds her that nature is in fact running the show..."
I am slowly realizing just how much I live and do for others while trying to fit it all into my own truth. Perhaps it is the plague of an only child who never had a sibling's bad behaviour to distract people's attention from my own. I began this blog to be a happy go lucky space for crafting and creating, but I can't deny the ugly stuff that still bubbles up and I can't help but put it into words. And oddly enough, people respond just as much, if not more, to the truth and reality. Everyday I learn how to be more real and honest despite the reactions I get and writing gives me that. I can't write about perfect pantaloons and the gratitude without sometimes writing about the frustrations and the darkness. I can't sugar-coat it all...it's just not who I am.
P.S. I so appreciated your encouragement with regards to the repeat c-section vs VBAC debate and would love to hear your detailed stories if you are willing and able to share. Please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org