Saturday, November 24, 2012


By the time I finished work on Wednesday I was shot, and then I still had to go to a doctor’s appointment.  Then Thanksgiving came and went, and so did Friday.  So this may be a little late, but that’s ok.  I still felt the need to write it.

This year has been extremely disastrous, for many reasons, most of which I haven’t even touched upon on here.  But I still think it’s important for my own sanity, for me to take the time to think about what I am thankful for.  This list will vary between the big things and the little things, for I think it should go without saying that I am thankful for the big things (but I’m not sure it does) and the little things, while seemingly silly, are what get a person through the every day.

I am thankful first and foremost and beyond all other things, for my little boy that I am so soon to meet.

I am thankful for Chester, the best friend I’ve ever had, and the greatest dog in the world.  I am thankful for his company and for his protection and for his friendship and for his unconditional love.

I am thankful for my family who has had to help me out a lot in preparation for my baby coming, and for allowing me to be excited about his arrival.

I am thankful for my friends, because, above all the usual things, I know positively now that none of them are only fair-weather friends, and that is completely amazing.

I am thankful for waking up early on Thanksgiving morning, burning fall-scented candles, and watching the Macy*s Thanksgiving Day parade.

I am thankful for my car Sasha, that I love so, so much, and how amazing she is because she is both compact yet fits everything I need, and I don’t owe anything for her anymore, so she is mine mine mine.

I am thankful for my job, and for the fact that when I return after I have the baby, I will most likely return to a promotion and a raise.  Although I still want to look for something else, this is still something to be thankful for.

I am thankful that, even though I don’t remember when or how, I discovered poetry, and how much I love it.  I am thankful that I know what makes me feel alive.

I am thankful for yoga, and for being able to wake up in the morning without back pain (well, when I’m not pregnant, that is) without having to take any medication.

I am thankful for my body in all its quirky weirdness, because even though I am short, have big ears, too round a nose, too-skinny legs, a weird cowlick, and unpredictable skin, I think I am quite pretty, and healthy, and when I run, or lift my legs over my head in a yoga headstand, or find the strength in my little arms to do something you can’t…I love myself.
I am thankful for having been able to go to school and study something that I loved. 

I am thankful for things like home-cooked meals, photographs, the smell of clothes washed in Gain, brisk walks in wintertime, the way ice water feels as you drink it when you are really, really, thirsty, Harry Potter, the smell of books, that period of time when I am drifting off to sleep and I think about all the things that I am looking forward to, sleep, sunset, beer and wine, leaving work just early enough to beat the traffic, surprise visits from friends.

The list can go on.

Obviously, there are plenty of things this year that I am missing and/or sad about.  But at this time above all others, especially since I need to have a clear head on my shoulders for my son, it’s important for me to focus on the list above.

So, as for my Thanksgiving.  It was nice and mellow, with lots of good food.  We had it at my parent’s house and it was just my siblings that came by.  My sister spent the night Thursday into Friday, which was nice.  She had someplace to go on the island on Friday night, so she hung out here all day.  He dog was here too.  But when I woke up on Friday morning, the swelling in my ankles had moved farther up my calves and my wrists were so swollen you couldn’t actually see them.  So I basically spent the whole day with my legs elevated and with ice packs periodically on my ankles and wrists.  It seems to have worked, because today the swelling subsided in my wrists completely and in my ankles substantially.  So I used the opportunity today to finish up the nursery.  I put together the baby’s swing, and finished going through everything, washing everything, and putting everything in its proper place.  I wanted to finish today, because I’m sure the work will cause the swelling to increase again, and at least tomorrow I’ll be able to spend another full day resting before my last full week of work.

My room is ready as well with the bassinet and rocking chair.  All I need now is a baby.  Hear that, baby?  I’m waiting for you!

Here are some pictures of the completed nursery:

I have one more week of work left (if I even make it that far).  I have my next doctor’s appointment on Tuesday with a different doctor that I haven’t seen yet (he was the one I was supposed to see after Hurricane Sandy but the office was shut down so that appointment got cancelled).  I will be 38 weeks on Monday and every day I wake up hoping that “today is the day.”

I am disappointed every night when it isn’t, but I just have to keep telling myself that one of these days, it will be.

I at least had the nursery to distract me, because I’m actually pretty down right now.  Usually I would have spent this weekend decorating for Christmas.  I miss my decorations, and the excitement of the way I had been celebrating the holidays for years.
It’s weird.  I have a million and one things on my mind.  Obviously, first and foremost, the baby.  I’m thinking about my job, and/or looking for a new one.  I’m thinking about what kind of place I can afford when I start working again, and how soon I will be able to manage it.

But I’m also thinking about whether or not I will remain married.  And besides the big stuff, the little things creep in.  I’ve been with my husband for a long time.  A very long time.  So when the prospect of eventually being with someone new comes along, part of what makes that weird is just going through getting comfortable with someone else.  You know, I’m used to my husband’s goods, and he’s used to mine.  I like knowing what to expect.  I don’t feel like getting used to someone new.  In any way.  Learning someone’s idiosyncrasies.  Learning how they like their food prepared, their nighttime routine, their morning routine…ugh…it’s a lot of work.

I also feel like I am crawling out of my skin being at “home” at my parents’ house all the time.  I am so lonely.  Because if I were still with my husband, I would be home with him, the person I chose to spend my life with.  Someone who conceivably might watch TV with me at least.  Instead I just kind of traipse around the house waiting for my water to break or the contractions to get more painful and more consistent.

And I cry a lot at night.

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