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[26 Oct 2009|05:23pm] |
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Fiiiinally. Pictures. Labor and delivery were just about perfect. Couldn't have planned it better. I had a non-stress test scheduled for 9am on Oct. 5th because she was overdue. While I was *already at the hospital*, I started having real contractions (as oppose to the fake ones I had been having on and off for hours on end during the week leading up to her birth - that was annoying). She was born at 6:43pm that day, 7lbs 2 oz. Went natural, thankfully no problems to keep me from following through with that. It did end up being back labor, if you know what that means. Really, it just means it hurt in my lower back way more than in the front, cause she was facing down instead of up. Her head was down, that wasn't the problem, just facing the wrong way. Gah. After three weeks I still haven't really collected my thoughts. I know the experience was tremendous, beautiful, painful, and totally worth it. But, I won't be doing that again for a while. I still think being pregnant was harder than taking care of a baby. At least now I can put the weight down. And when I finally do what makes her stop crying, it's like a thrill-ride.
I feel like I know her pretty well. But sometimes... sometimes, I just don't know what the hell she wants. You run through the obvious, hunger, bad diaper, too hot/cold, uncomfortable, tired or overstimulated... sometimes they just cry. Just cause. Isn't that ridiculous? I guess I do it sometimes too. How many times can I use the word sometimes? Nah, just kidding. She's starting to get over sleeping most of the day and night, and her nap started about an hour ago, so I'm guessing I have about half an hour to chill. I will say one thing about housework, I've finally learned how to keep up with my dishes. It was inevitable.
( Pictures of a newborn )
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[01 Sep 2009|01:28pm] |
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Though I wonder about how I will handle raising a child when I can barely get through days without getting depressed and/or angry *now*, after reading posts on babycenter.com, I find that most moms experience new-found anger issues after giving birth. There are the typical questions... is it hormonal, is it societal, is it a fundamental flaw in one's personality, is it just an inability to live in the present and take things as they come... can I change my over-scheduled life to fit in more time for relaxation, should I take medication, yoga? Well, I know first and foremost that for me, my anger problem is extreme here and now, and though my gut tells me I can handle it when the baby cries a lot for no apparent reason and that I can handle a devastating lack of sleep, I worry that my anger will explode unexpectedly and create emotional trauma for an innocent being. It already explodes over the littlest things, that I then rationalize and tell myself that my anger was okay because it wasn't just about the little thing, it was that I felt neglected or betrayed. I think I need to understand how easy it is for me to feel neglected or betrayed, and that the offender hasn't intentionally done anything to make me feel that way. He looks at life differently. He doesn't live like one could die any second... which in my mind seems heretical, because what can you appreciate if you don't also acknowledge it could be over in an instant? But, what can you appreciate if you're in constant fear and anxiety? I guess there's some middle ground. Something I've never been good at. God I can see it, what it would feel like to really just STOP, and be calm, and know that life is just life, and that the answers don't have to exist, that I don't need to know why we breathe and why the world is put together the way it is and why I can't have constant affection or why I feel so alone when someone decided they'd *marry* this fucked up piece of shit. And how could I have a baby when half the world can't feed their children and why in this economy and basically worry about every little thing.... You just can't stop the circle of life. People have children because they are in love, because to experience the joys of new life is unprecedented, to remind you of your own inner child, to teach you new lessons and force you to grow and adapt all the time... and people have kids because they didn't mean to and just don't appear to care, and because they didn't mean to but have the presence of mind to make the best of it. I see it so often in the healthcare clinic, angry moms who snap at their kids for fidgeting in their chairs... I know I don't know how their day has been before that, I don't know what the kid did that morning to upset their mother, to make her irritable, but I suspect it was nothing much more than a kid being a kid, and adults forget how to deal with that, or often just don't try. I'm sure it's difficult to be that present every day, but is it not a worthy endeavor, for your sake and the child's? I'm sure I'm overlooking the difficulty in just trying to get a kid dressed and ready to be somewhere on time, but, I've never been one to acknowledge the importance of time or deadlines, I just do stuff, and when it gets done it gets done. Not that I plan on being late for everything all the time just so I don't have to scold my child, but I think putting the pressure of unnecessary restrictions on a kid is just pointless. I want her to stay young and free as long as possible. I'm sure at some point, in the heat of the moment, I'll forget and snap and say "hurry up! just get over here and put on your shoes, there's no time for this!" but I think essentially trying to remember what life is about will go a long way in preventing many of the explosions of anger I currently struggle with. I already feel the pressure lifting. And, if I can't choose to not be angry or frustrated, I can certainly choose how I expel those emotions, and may I never direct them at her. I grew up in such a hostile environment that even seeing another parent smack a kid in the rear end just once makes my face flush and I get all nervous and twitchy inside. I never ever want my kid to feel like that. I heard a child apologize for being a child, and it made my heart break. However difficult it may be for me to control my emotions, I know that I'm an adult and that somewhere inside of me are the tools to handle myself. Children haven't developed those tools, and it's up to me to teach her. So I need to learn fast. Thank goodness for A Place of Our Own on PBS every weekday morning. They constantly remind you that you are your child's first teacher, and that the best thing you can do is just listen to your kid. Quit thinking your schedule is the most important thing in the world, and just exist. My next worst problem is my extremely low tolerance for stupidity. I see parents let their kids run through the middle of parking garages, not thinking that the child is shorter than the back of a car and that someone pulling out might not see them, I see them let their kids wander aimlessly ten, twenty feet behind them, not watching, not keeping track, at the same time not interacting with and using every opportunity to teach their children. It always struck me as odd, a parent walking through the front door of the grocery store and their kid wandering in ten seconds behind them, or they'll turn around at the door with this bewildered expression on their face like "huuuuh? where'd my kid go?" It's like, geez, did you forget you had one? Are you really so trusting of everyone around you that you just let your kid walk alone among strangers? What about all the vehicular traffic just fifteen feet away? Protect your progeny dipshit. But, I can't worry about what others do. I can only do my best with my own. Well, I'm done hypothesizing for the day. Time to wait and relax and hope my baby's healthy and strong.
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[17 Aug 2009|07:29pm] |
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Today a customer at work asked me how long I have left, and she may or may not have pointed to my stomach, but I squinted at the clock and said "Ohhh, about twenty minutes." She looked at me funny.
Can't be havin this job where all I think about is when I get to leave. So, my last day is officially Thursday. I think my life will vastly improve. I can't wait to go to school, start flexing my brain muscles in a capacity beyond which my novels and non-fictions can obtain, start writing again, work my job in which I don't encounter so many assholes... man... it's almost like I should never be sad again. But I know that won't happen. Just take it as it comes. I seriously almost fell into the trap of just living and not trying to do anything with myself. It was easier, but not particularly fulfilling. I believe I waited the exact right amount of time to go back. I know what I want to do, I know I'm old enough to ignore the drama of the average freshman. Didn't plan on having a kid, but I almost think that'll motivate me even more. About six months into her life, I'll slowly start piecing together my college career. Oh man, I'll have to start writing essays again. That'll be the real academic test of how much I've grown, if I can write an essay without obsessing and falling apart over it. Maybe I should practice or something. Ha, yea right.
My downstairs roommate is reneging on her lease and moving out three months before the end, citing water damage and mold that's technically been there since the beginning. I really think my insanely stupid landlord is somehow going to try to blame me, or all of us, for it, and be really pissed. But I'm not sure she can take it to court, because I don't believe this house was ever inspected, and half the shit never worked, and the house should probably technically be condemned. I'm just jealous, because she actually has somewhere else to go, and we don't yet. Plus, the landlord let us live for free for like, six months in a little apartment elsewhere, while she was taking this house from a non-live-able state to a semi-live-able state, and she's a friend of my mom's, so I feel a bit obliged to stick it out. Just three more months. That's not terrible. Once, when my neighbor was late on the rent, the landlord tried to bitch at *me* about it. She was like "I only have one lease for you guys!!" and I was like, "Yea, and her name is on it, separately, so talk to her [shit face!]" I also don't think she was supposed to turn this into a two-family house. So any taking us to court would just backfire on her. And she's too busy to remember we're here unless, apparently, rent is late. Heaven forbid she return my calls about a non-working fridge, or a window that can't be used. But two days after the rent grace period is up, ring ring. Fuck her.
I seem to have this affinity for choosing to read a book at the exact time in which it can fully relate to my own life. Not all the time/every book, because that'd be ridiculous. I'm finishing up I Know This Much Is True by Wally Lamb. If you've read it... by god, you'll know what I mean. Well, Wally Lamb has a way of relating everything in life to what's happening with his characters. Perhaps it's a more fair assessment to say that he's just one of the best writers ever, and that almost anyone sincerely reading his books will be able to relate to most of what he's saying whether they've gone through the exact scenario or not. I already read She's Come Undone and The Hour I First Believed. I'm kind of sad he doesn't have any more novels at the moment. Just a non-fiction on the structure of poetry/songwriting, which is probably still interesting, but I probably won't read it. I'm thinking of getting back into Emerson, or maybe reading one of the books I read in World Views, like Nichomachean Ethics or someshit. I remember a lot of it, and my notes are still in the margins. Might be interesting... maybe I can write an essay on that! My issue has always been not being able to dissect the essay topic and only talk about it without wanting to talk about the entire book. So, we'll see. We will see. I bet after I read Tuesdays With Morrie, I'll want to talk to Dr. Berger again. It's never weird to reconnect, right?
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[08 Aug 2009|08:39pm] |
when did i stop being metaphoric?
i want everything to be beautiful again.
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[08 Aug 2009|01:13pm] |
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My Darling - Wilco |
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Wow, I feel exceptionally good today. Today, the sun is bright, it's hot but I don't have to go outside, the breeze inside is cool because I live in the woods, and little by little, I'm getting the motivation to gather myself and do useful things. The music iTunes has been playing has been awesome, without any direction from me. I love it when all the lyrics seem to apply directly to my situation. It still upsets me that there's someone walking around out there who feels justified in telling me that I don't care about my child just because I smoked a little bit of weed, when I've done everything in my power to do everything right (always eat well, take my prenatal vitamin every day, do the light exercises suggested in my baby books, go to every doctor's appointment, etc...), and weed doesn't hurt babies, and especially when she herself smokes weed *and* cigarettes, even though not around her kid, cigarette smoke lingers and actually has chemicals, carcinogens, nasty shit in it that sticks to your clothes and still affects kids. But, like Josh Ritter says, "If they can't find a way to help her they can go to hell". What, exactly, did being a bitch get her? Absolutely nothing. Hope she's happy. Maybe it did do something. Maybe it motivates me to be better than her. A better mom, a better person, someone who wants to make something out of her life, rather than sit around and judge others and always try to one-up friends. She can have IGA. I'm quitting in the next couple weeks. And I'm *so* *fucking* *happy*. I can't describe how much I've grown to hate that job.
We got the baby a dresser, and put it in her room, and made space for a changing table. And that's all that needs to be done until we move out in a few months. Yesterday started the eighth month she's been inside me. Every day I get a little stronger, a little more able to eat... yesterday I actually finished dinner before it got cold! That's like, incredible. After the shower, we'll see what else, like maybe a bassinet, we need. I really lucked out in the in-laws department. All his grandparents are still around, while I have none, and they're super excited and monetarily inclined. I'm so anxious, in a good, excited way. I can see a life I want to live laid out before me. All I have to do is go with the flow, do things in good time. Give myself the right balance of relaxation and productivity. Let Corey help, let him in when I get in my moods, realize all he ever does is try to help, not hold anything against him, because life is too short. Mmm, I love my cats. A lot. At the moment, I quite love everything. Every song that comes on is beautiful, anything I could do with my day seems full of possibilities... so different from just two days ago, when nothing seemed to matter. I smelled weed on this dude buying a black n mild at UDF last night, and it made me wistful instead of sad and angry and jealous. Well, a little jealous ;)
( Pregger Pictures )
Thanks for reading.
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[25 Jul 2009|07:59am] |
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There's so many things that would be awesome to do, but that I only mildly care about. Starting with the simple, I would revamp my livejournal. It's had the same background since I was in, like, the tenth grade. I should maybe stop anonymously checking up on people I knew in high school and really reconnect, or just stop. (Even though just ten minutes ago I got a facebook so I could continue doing just that.) As colorful and unique as my inner world is, my outer world has been absurdly bland, almost typical, really really boring. I'm probably going to quit IGA very soon and work solely at the pastel company. At least being surrounded by art, and never by assholes, is a move in the right direction. I can be a part of the community different ways... joining library clubs, finding other new moms in the city for me and my kid to play with. I can't fucking believe I'm going to have a kid. Every day it gets closer, and I get simultaneously more panicked, more surreal, but happier. Maybe I need to get out of Cincinnati altogether. Most of the really close friends I had have moved on, probably not coming back. The ones that are here are busy, involved in their own projects, and to be honest I'm not sure I have the energy to keep up with them. I'm tired of just chillin', though.
Aside from finally learning html and doing something cool with my livejournal, which means nothing, I want to be knee-deep in something I care about. I hate this house, and I keep using waiting to move as an excuse to do nothing. I could at least start learning. I do want to live with my brother and his daughter, like we tentatively planned, and that would mean staying here for a while. I want to build compost heaps and worm farms and recycling bins and water barrels, and ride bikes more than I drive, and never buy bottled water, and eat organically from a garden in the back... I know there are people in Cincinnati who are interested in, and do, these things. But it seems like the ones who are real hardcore about it move away. I guess I could always start small. A couple years of slowly moving toward an ultimate goal is far better than a month of useless shit. I need to learn a new way to focus without smoking weed. On the one hand it's like "well that seems natural", on the other hand it's like "why can't I just smoke like I wanna?" Can't have both.
At least I finally have all the information I could ever want at my fingertips. I just need to learn to sift through the information and get the facts. I also plan to be a forerunner in legalizing marijuana. I have an outline planned out in my head. I realize people have tried, and it's the government's job to lie to the people, but, well, what else can I do? It's one of the things I truly care about.
THIS I can certainly attest to. Last time I tried to quit smoking for an extended period of time (I think I made it about three days), I ended up in the hospital with acute alcohol poisoning. There's no chance of that now that I'm pregnant, so something else will have to occupy my time. I'm pretty sure it's legalizing it. If I can't smoke it, I'm damn well still gonna love it.
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[24 Jul 2009|09:02pm] |
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sparks - coldplay |
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I keep having pretty good starts, then sometime between two and four hours after I wake up, everything goes to shit. Seems like it's worse when I try to just ignore things and be normal, except when it comes to eating. I do need to just ignore the nausea, the tenseness in my veins, and just eat. Even if I end up getting sick, some form of nutrition has entered my body, and I can try again next time.
What I need to stop trying to ignore is the fact that there is something very wrong with my head. It doesn't rationalize correctly without weed. Sounds like an excuse right? Or, according to a once-friend, a manipulative lie to get what I want. How the hell does anybody but me know what I want? What I truly want is normalcy, a sense that I can just get up, get something healthy to eat, enjoy a nice morning of reading or listening to music or, now that I have the internet at home (!!!!), surfing the web, and not feel all twisted up, worrying about everything, dreading the next tragedy that will obviously happen in the next few hours. And later in the day, I can go to work, realize that not every person I see has some ulterior motive, that they're not all just looking for their next opportunity to be vindictive to a stranger, that, oh my god, some people are actually nice. I want true friends, that don't judge my character and think they know how I should live my life just because they know someone else with a mental illness who acted a certain way. I think it's a title I at least have to accept, if not embrace. I have a mental illness, and it's bi-polar II, and weed helps. Simple as that.
My doctor is fine with the fact that I just recently quit. In fact, she's happy for me. Can't say the same for one of the only people I thought I could talk to. I'm just so pissed. She lived with me for a damn year, and suddenly I'm just like her sister because I'm bi-polar, not *me*, who actually doesn't lie to or manipulate anybody. I don't see what my personal preferences have to do with that anyway. Plus, how would she know what's an "act" and what's not? She's only known me since weed has, mostly, kept this shit in check. Even Nancy, who is about as politically minded as a person can be, respected me. And why can't people do research before going on and on about how much marijuana harms a fetus, when it most clearly does not? All it took was a few seconds just to find this article. I'm sure one could find evidence to prove any theory you'd want to uphold, but you have to be aware that your evidence could be tarnished with results of combined testing, or misleading information.
Well, Corey is home from work. Since he hates his job so much, and he puts up with it for me and for us and now for a baby, I'll let him play with the internet on our first night with it. Yay.
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[21 Jul 2009|01:21pm] |
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So, reconnecting to my roots, hanging out with people who actually know something about me, people I can talk to who don't jump to conclusions and assume they know what's right for me without knowing what I've been through and the things that I do and think, aside from the obvious, turns out to be good for me. Better than some know-it-all bitching at me to do something I had already planned to do, in my own time and way, and had slowly been getting closer to that goal. Today is our first day weed free. I feel scattered and physically a bit ill, but otherwise excited for the new opportunities it will allow. We'll have a lot more money, a lot more flexibility, more stress in some ways but less in others. I'm in the middle of week 29 of pregnancy, so I'm even a little ahead of my projected quit date, which was at 30 weeks. So all the know-it-all really succeeded in doing was losing a friend. Not like we were ever that close to begin with. Someone who hasn't known me fairly well since at least my senior year of high school just doesn't *know*.
Then again, what have even I known about myself since then? That weed calms me down, evens out the bullshit, allows me to think and function on a somewhat normal field.. but perhaps hinders creativity, has maybe kept me from doing a lot of things I'd otherwise do, like write or paint. I have wonderful ideas when I smoke, ideas that make life make more sense. But maybe it's the confusion, the pure chaos of life, that really makes a person alive. I got so stuck in my routine I barely even hung out with anyone... but I was eating and sleeping. Over the past few months we've cut down the smoking so much, from a half a week (between the two of us) to an eighth a week, that I think I can see a middle ground, but I have to be clean for labor and delivery so I don't have to deal with a social worker. Maybe I could have asked for medication... in the beginning of my doctor visits my doctor said if I have too hard of a time quitting we could look into other things to help me. But at this point, if I have to be clean of the one thing that's ever helped me after all the meds I tried in high school, I might as well just be clean of everything. Quitting cigarettes, piece of cake, quitting drinking easy-peasy. This... not so much. But I'm dealing. Better than usual.
Maybe the life inside me makes my own life clearer. I can more easily see that at one point, I *did* deal with this without weed. I wrote... ALL the time. It was never anything special, just a way to manage the massive overload of thoughts, sad or happy. It's mostly the physical things I worry about, my body rejecting food because it's used to having herbal aide in digestion, the physical depression that makes me feel like I'm sinking, drowning, unable to break the current of dread and fear. Where does it come from? A manifestation of all the things I never dealt with, or pure, unadulterated psychosis? I thought I had dealt with at least most of those things, but somehow, I'm just not that much better. Perhaps someday I'll be able to write stories and novels about things that matter, but I'm still too self-involved to come up with anything. That'll probably change with child. There's no time to be this self-involved. I have to remember to take care of it though, so I can take care of her. If my premonitions serve me correctly, she'll be the very thing that takes care of me.
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