The mornings are the times when my body shocks me the most. During the day things equilibrate; I become used to how I move and look with fondness upon the bump. But in those first still morning moments I am a stranger to myself. The mornings are when my belly is most its native self, not yet shaped by food or clothing. It used to be a familiar, soft hollow between poking hipbones, smooth and flat. Now it rises high, immune to gravity, having long ago swallowed any trace of a hipbone. It’s surprisingly hard, my skin stretched impossibly tight over a firmness that is frightening.
At those times it feels like an alien is taking over my body. I wonder if things will ever be the same again; I liked my old body a lot more than I admitted. I miss feeling lithe, cinching my scrubs in tight, feeling the looseness of my jeans.
Parenting and the becoming of it is a scary thing. Through everything D and I do runs an undercurrent of awareness that things will never be the same again. We take our time going to bed together; we take naps when we want. We go on dates together nearly every free night; dates to the grocery store, to the park, to the library. We eat out at a whim. Sometimes we just sit quietly for hours in the house.
I like to fantasize that having a baby around will not be all that different, that it will be business as usual with the exception of something adorable strapped to my chest. I will be efficient, calm, capable. But I know in reality it is all one big unknown, a step of faith not unlike others I’ve taken in my life. Going into medicine. Getting married. Giving up a habit. Going through a trial.
And in the end that is what is oddly reassuring. Parenting is not something I am meant to do of my own cognition or ability any more than those other things. This person will be who he or she is, someone God has placed in my life for this ministry I can offer. For what my body is offering it now. They are not here for my convenience, or solely for my satisfaction, or to suit my needs. This is the first big ministry D and I will do together in our lives, and all the way God will lead us, and that is okay.
Week Twenty-Nine
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Ramblings
I’ve realized that pregnancy is a philosophical endeavor, sort of like treating ocular hypertension. Yesterday I had a patient come for a second opinion about whether she should be on eyedrops for her mildly elevated eye pressures. I explained the whole situation and basically told her each doctor has their own philosophy of approach, and she’d probably get a different answer from every person she asked.
That’s how pregnancy is; everyone seems to have their own constructs on what should and shouldn’t be done. I know one person who drinks occasional alcohol, another who has sworn off artificial sweeteners. I used to want to know what all the other pregnant women were doing, but now I sort of don’t—it’s like being around your classmates while studying for exams; a little interaction can be helpful but too much is stressful.
I’ve pretty much been naturally laid-back about the whole thing. Short of avoiding proven toxins and popping a prenatal vitamin every morning, life hasn’t changed all that much. I read occasionally from pregnancy books but not obsessively; I chew sugar-free gum without guilt and still go for light jogs.
The only thing that’s been remotely unusual about this pregnancy has been how little I’ve been showing, and this I hear about endlessly. That’s how I looked at two months.. you’re due August of this year?.. do you do lots of ab exercises? (ha, ha). Up until this past week or two I wasn’t comment-ably pregnant, much less obviously in my third trimester.
But the baby is moving all the time, as if she’s telling me there’s really something in there, and this is all okay. There will be plenty of lumbering around with sore backs and heavy ankles later. It’s nice to be pleasantly round but not encumbered. I feel grateful for the simplicity of this all. Is it just my personality? Have I changed? Who knows, but simple is good.
Week Twenty-Nine
That’s how pregnancy is; everyone seems to have their own constructs on what should and shouldn’t be done. I know one person who drinks occasional alcohol, another who has sworn off artificial sweeteners. I used to want to know what all the other pregnant women were doing, but now I sort of don’t—it’s like being around your classmates while studying for exams; a little interaction can be helpful but too much is stressful.
I’ve pretty much been naturally laid-back about the whole thing. Short of avoiding proven toxins and popping a prenatal vitamin every morning, life hasn’t changed all that much. I read occasionally from pregnancy books but not obsessively; I chew sugar-free gum without guilt and still go for light jogs.
The only thing that’s been remotely unusual about this pregnancy has been how little I’ve been showing, and this I hear about endlessly. That’s how I looked at two months.. you’re due August of this year?.. do you do lots of ab exercises? (ha, ha). Up until this past week or two I wasn’t comment-ably pregnant, much less obviously in my third trimester.
But the baby is moving all the time, as if she’s telling me there’s really something in there, and this is all okay. There will be plenty of lumbering around with sore backs and heavy ankles later. It’s nice to be pleasantly round but not encumbered. I feel grateful for the simplicity of this all. Is it just my personality? Have I changed? Who knows, but simple is good.
Week Twenty-Nine
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