That's me in the spotlight

I am dreaming of a world where I don't have to betray my baby and break her heart in November. I cried so ugly the other night and named all the naked, floating, hideous things in my heart. I'm realizing how angry I feel that my body will eventually shout this news and everyone who sees me will feel they have the right to interpret what it means, to judge me. Jonathan pointed out that the man gets no visible affects of a pregnant partner, it's the woman who is looked at as trashy, disorganized, irresponsible, overwhelmed. I have a block solidly placed against acceptance and every time I think of making Sparrow a middle child this creeping horror spreads over me. I guess I turned three right before my sister was born? (Third child). So this happens, I'm just following the pattern my genes and maybe my unconscious beliefs about families have set for me. But I just wanted so much to go to the beach this summer and enjoy my sweets without this being all everyone sees, talks about. I've tried to think of ways I can minimize it or ignore it, not give it away to everyone like they think is their right. I feel very defensive of my lack of autonomy this time. I do not want anyone at work to know and to have to deal with their subtle urging for me to quit again. It will alienate me even further from my friends who don't have kids and who are baffled by how many I've acquired in such a short time. It made me feel so good that Jonathan was able to get this. He said "It's not fair, what an awful thing to have to carry." He also told me it scares him when I get really angry because he is so disillusioned by all the relationships in his life but he believes our closeness is real, and when I get really upset and dismal it makes him worry. I love him so much and I fell in love with him as in times of old when I felt he could hear me. He is the most important person in the world. I love his heartbeat and his arms and shoulders and his voice, especially in the morning and when he sings, I love the way his hair smells, what he finds funny and how he tells Chai "cow stories" at night. He is an idyllic father, to me. Maybe I shouldn't be so sad...it will be another lucky baby. I think of all the pain and disasters, getting the news that my husband or one of my children has died (or worse seeing it) and I think how everything would change, in my mind. I would be so grateful for this last piece of Jonathan. I would be so grateful for another little one coming to be in our family the way our family should have been. Right now "should have been" is my every day life!

Pretend all the good things are for you.

"Hail to those who will come from the sunlight that surrounds you." This is the phrase I'm repeating today. It will be a new friend. The universe will make room. This morning I took Sparrow into Chai's room when he called for us and laid her on the bed with him. He cackled and squeezed her, kissed her face while she squealed and beamed. He pulled up the blanket and said "I want her to be cozy with me!" Someday, someday, maybe they all will be like that. 3 so close. I know we can make it work and eventually, a long long long time from now it will feel right and fun and free again.

Bubble guppies

I've been counting the days, willing that tight crampy feeling, frantically checking ovulation calculators, could it really have swung nine days!? What secrets were in my womb? I was so preoccupied and fatigued during my sessions today, I couldn't imagine ever returning to do this again. I found myself totally zoning out and counting, forgetting to breathe. When the first line spread across I smiled with initial relief and then watched in horror as the second line began to darken. What no why it's not fair!!! I tried so hard to be careful! I wildly wanted nothing more than to race back in time and put on the condom. Augh!!! Three??? Things have finally become so perfect now, this was supposed to be my year of no pregnancy, maybe we were going to stop at two kids anyway, this was The Year of the Racher! We were going to get married again next year and go to the DR for our five year anniversary. I felt all those wispy dreams of freedom crashing around me. Worse still was that Jonathan was right there already frantic and devastated. It made me feel awful, disappointed. It's not that I expected him to be excited, but I was there apologizing to him and I didn't feel like we were connected. I don't want this to be like last time. There are the stinging reasons I don't want to think about--how am I going to go anywhere? I wanted to just walk next to my two and hold each of their hands for a few years, WHY? I don't want to make Sparrow a middle child. I don't want to waste this tiny time having to push them aside for a needier child. I don't want to swell up and ache again and have to ask for time off work (will they just ask me to leave?) and pay for another rhogam shot and who knows whatever else and hold my breath again that a homebirth goes perfectly? It's not time. It doesn't feel right. WHY am I so fertile when people I love struggle and weep every month? Three kids under four seems trashy, too eager, sloppy. I'm so frustrated with myself. But some of the best people I know are third children. Even Jonathan is a third child. I know that as jarring as this might seem, we can be wiser in the future and it will just take a couple more years to get to our dreams. We can get married our seven year, maybe. The younger I have them the healthier they'll be. I shudder to think what my family will think. I don't want to tell anyone. I don't feel so much of a desire to be a birth rock star right now. I just wanted to enjoy life with my two and maybe look into PhD programs. Jon came home full of confidence about selling tech and combining an account for bills and I do think if we could just develop a couple of good habits we would be in a better position. I also need to stop doing conferences and going to things for free. I'm rallying, though. I'm not going to spend these nine months moping. I am going to go hard. I will manage my disappointment and try to be open to what lessons this experience has for me. I will be happy that I gave Sparrow two more months of development than Chai ever had. I wish I didn't have to, but I can decide to embrace this journey.

There would have been gentle hands in my hair.

My heart should have broken the day I asked, "But Mommy, what if you die?" and instead of spinning reassuring tales of Never Lost and Always, I wish I had been taught the gospel of All Things Go. It would have been terribly hard to bear, but in that moment I could have become alive to the tiny heaven in each second of awareness; a slice of sunlight, a falling leaf, and recognized I live in heaven as I open my eyes to a morning, exist inside an embrace. There is a layer past hopelessness that melts into joyousness. "I hope we get a long time. But no matter how long, it won't be long enough."

"And all the lights that lead the way are blinding"

When I enter the house, I can smell the stench of what they've said about me. It hangs heavy in the air. If they were interested in shaking the hand of introspection whatsoever, I could be a most menacing symbol. But I'm afraid and disappointed and full of loss. Once again my relationships have slipped out form underneath me, more completely than I could have dreamed. I feel such cold eyes on me. I feel that all my interactions are carefully stored away so they can be pulled out later as stories that illustrate how miserable, how incompetent, how defensive I am. I definitely keep my pockets lined with stories, too--living as an outcast from the tribe is very painful. You want to explain to someone why your being alone is not your fault. They didn't understand. My brother told us about an essay he wrote for the Caged Bird about pressure to serve a mission. He shared it with my sister who took it to our parents. They called him in and told him if he printed it, his paper would be done, no one would read it, and that it was against everything he was trying to accomplish. When he disagreed, he was told, "Get out." It's just birds and birds and cages and cages.