1/24/21
Last night got home around 2, almost 3 am. Later after I showered, in bed before going to sleep, I cried very, very hard. was rocking back and forth. I cried and cried and cried, moaning a little/as much as I wanted. One of the phrases that kept going through my head that was making me cry harder was this: “This is too hard/I can’t do this.” – regarding the pregnancy. I thought about everything I can’t do. I thought about how it’s changing me so much—my very body, my plans for the future—how the baby will direct like all my future actions. I don’t feel like myself. I want to feel like myself: I want to lift things. I want to laugh without feeling like I have to pee. I want to eat (real, raw) sushi. I want to eat hot dogs and sandwiches w/ deli meat in them. I want to be able to drink if I want. I want to be able to puff a cigarette if I want. I want to help and lift heavy stuff (we’re just about to move out of apartment- i don’t want to feel useless). I want to not wake up in the middle of the night just to pee; pre-pregnancy I slept in one long stretch through the whole night, never waking. I love to sleep on my back- sometimes i fall asleep on my back at night and open my eyes in the exact same position in the morning- but lately dreading end of 1st trimester because they say after that, you can’t sleep on your back cause it blocks a vein that could kill your kid or something. I didn’t realize how 24/7 pregnancy is– it’s with me from when i wake up (cravings, funny stomach feelings bordering on nausea) until the moment I fall asleep (I can’t sleep in my favorite position) and even waking me during the night, to pee. Day after day–there’s no escape from my own body. I don’t want to worry if the food I’m eating is the healthiest, is the best for the innocent thing inside of me. I don’t want to worry anymore—I just don’t want to worry so much anymore. what kind of kid will he be? does he even want to be born? will he even like his life? will he love his life? Can I give him the kind of life he would love? it feels like too much change at once. It feels overwhelming.
1/25/21
9-month death sentence
1/26/21
last night, part of my dream was that I was eating potato chips. I saw the bag of them in the back of the cupboard and was so happy I had some.
it’s hard for me lately to tell if I’m hungry or not because my stomach feels so bloated all the time- I can’t feel hunger pangs like I did before. The signs I’ve been using to tell is if I feel a little sick (usually start to feel sick when stomach getting empty), and how long since I last ate/how much I’ve eaten already today.
1/29/21
Something just occurred/has slowly been occurring to me, regarding the birth: I know everything should be focused on the birthing mom cause she’s like laboring a human out of her body. And I know that this process involves like, the most unflattering body changes ever all at once, like blood, poop, sweat, pee maybe, chills, shaking, fluids gushing and leaking, messy, maybe traumatic, maybe painful, etc. But…what if…what if…somehow…the experience could be seen as and treated as….this….extremely sensual and intimate and private and even ROMANTIC experience between me and my husband? Is this possible? I think this is what I always want most of all. I mean not just for the birth—for everything we do together, me and R. I like that kind of mood, that kind of tone, that kind of experience, that kind of memory, the best of all. I know…that the birth circumstance, maybe there’s a lot you can’t control, that some life force probably takes over and controls my body until the baby comes out, and I’m just like at its whim and its mercy. But, maybe if I just think about it a lot leading up to it, and frequently imagine how it could be…and just leave that possibility open…maybe in a small but meaningful way, amid all the chaos, she will answer my prayer – she will grant us a moment of pure grace or bliss, in the romance department. It’s important to me, this element. It’s really important to me that many interactions in my life continue to contain romance and magic and desire, no matter how much of a mama I become.
Dreamt: There was a whole big scene of snow and ice. very snowy. I was on one side of the street with houses, I wanted to cross to the other side of the street with houses. The place/street was not familiar. I looked and it seemed to be all quiet and clear, so I started to cross. The snow was up to my chest—it was almost hitting my chin at times. I was wading through it, it took all my strength. I wasn’t afraid I would drown or anything, but I was afraid I would get stuck bc it was such slow going, and someone would run me over, because as soon as I started to go, a stranger’s truck rounded the corner and looked to be coming down the street. But I don’t remember what happened/if I ever made it across.
Marriage Journal 