I just got off the phone with my friend Jenny.
She's got a new job, a professor. We touched on her trip to Africa, on the heels of her trip to Egypt. She had to go and walk the dog and we hung up promising to call each other more.
How are you?
Busy. Changing jobs, my life. Searching. Growing. Becoming. How are you?
Pregnant.
"How are you feeling about it?" she asked. "Really. How are you feeling?"
Oh I don't know. Like this was a really bad idea. Just stupid really. I forgot why we did it. We are happy, in love. My daughter is healthy. We were just turning the corner onto easy street. She was in school, I was going to the gym. There's been talk of freelance work, my husband wants to run for the town planning board. We were going to paint the house, maybe, if we stay here, fix up the downstairs bathroom. Possibly a vacation, certainly more time visiting friends.
I'm trying to remember why we did this. I hate being pregnant. I hate the incapacity. Maybe if I could get up, walk around, make plans. If it was normal, although Id be sick, I'd be living. This...forced rest. The pre-bedrest forced "laying low" is...disheartening. I forgot how with Ellie I felt good, but the brain and the chick parts weren't connecting. Today I would have walked 3 miles. Id have carried up the laundry. I'd have vacuumed the car. But after a trip to Target, to Costco, to preschool and back, to the park...I realized that at 3pm, I hadn't sat down.
So now it's q to 7. I'm sweaty, my mouth is pasty, I'm under a snugglie watching Ellen and googling RUBY to find out how come her and Denny, her boyfriend of 8 years, never had sex.
Really? This is my life? really?
Sigh
"I'm feeling ok. I forgot why this was a good idea."
She laughed.
I laughed too.
No comments:
Post a Comment