3:50am, Monday, March 19, 2018
Pregnancy is beautiful, but it's not exalting nor reverent. It's brutal and primal and deeply dismantling. And it forces you to confront all of the dark corners and crannies of yourself that you have been able to skip over for the past 30 years. It's frankly not an enjoyable experience to dig up the bits of yourself that you don't love that much. It sort of reminds me of when Harry Potter opens up the horcruxes...and he has to face the dark bits of voldermorts soul. haha. This feels like that, minus the like evil dark lord stuff. Bc the parts of me I have buried are still loveable...they just make me cringe. And of course so does the hurt. I just don't like feeling the feelings that carving out the dark edges of myself brings up!!
I think it may be the same for everyone, but after a certain amount of time, it's easy to 'unlove' the parts of yourself that haven't been praised or accepted by society. So while one can't lose parts of oneself, one can bury it deep deep deep deep down. Like a secret only you know about. ANYWAY, 30 years accruing layers of hurt while pushing down those parts have all been brought to the surface and shuffled around and thoroughly examined in this pregnancy and it's all just...it's all just terribly uncomfortable for the mind, body, and soul! And very visceral and very physical! Just ask my cranioscacral therapist...
38 weeks now of that!
38 weeks and the amount of times I’ve sat at the end of the bed in the dark anytime between 10pm and 6am and just cried alone this pregnancy...well, I’ve lost count.
And while I’m so excited (and a little terrified) for what’s to happen in the next 4 weeks...I am just really feeling 90% simply excited to not cry at night any more.
It’s the worst crying alone at night.
I’ve cried bc my body hurts SO much (like I've fallen down a mountain and everywhere aches), bc I feel so alone (I think it's the culmination and isolation of being awake and so painfully aware that I am alone in the dark...even with a loving hubby and puppy nearby), bc my upstairs neighbours are loud at 3 am, bc family has been inadvertently but at times insensitively demanding, bc I’m stressed (about insurance, being organised enough, manoeuvring through the next chapters with insane financial saavy, being too far from family, not being far enough, etc etc), bc I am angry at the fact that only one person has given up their seat on public transport for me this entire pregnancy and angry that men still make me move for them on sidewalks, bc I am sad that I’m not sure I’ve enjoyed this pregnancy as much as I’d hoped, bc of the unknown. Bc my husband is snoring and he’s always able to sleep so well. Bc I’ve done so much to prepare my mind and body for this birth and what if it’s not enough or doesn’t even help and everything is for naught??
I'm also scared about labour. I’m trying to rescript that to say I am excited for labour and that that is the final 10% of what I’m feeling. But to be honest, it feels like I am in front of a huge cave and I am the only one who must and can go through it. And it’s dark and I’ll be alone in there and I have no idea what will happen. And I have no say when I am lowered into the cave. Baby decides! Sort of like being pushed into the unknown without being in on the joke...but hopefully I'll emerge powerfully with a healthy babe on my arms.
I also don't feel like baby will come for a while. It think baby feels the emotional and physical loose ends of stress that still need to be organised. I have not been able to hold a sacred space or room for this baby to arrive. I still need to clear some emotional things, and let go of some anger. And the nursery isn’t done, but it should be around 39 weeks. The nursery being 'done' is more about ritual than necessity, I think. But it is all a metaphor for space, room, and feeling invited to arrive.
That said, I have begun eating my dates and hoping that I can birth this baby gently and peacefully when the time is right for us both.
Side note, as I look out the window at the 4am London night, it’s still snowing and we are almost to April and I am so tired of being cold. Next pregnancy I want to time it (ha ha like we have any say in things so magical) so that I have a Sept or Oct baby so that when I’m huge, all I have to do is slip on birkenstocks and a large Innika Choo dress or Loup Charmant slip. I’m so tired of layers and huge coats and having to do up my laces just to take the dog out and almost crying by the end bc I’m so hot and unable to bend and mad and uncomfortable. ANYWAY.
I really had hoped I would have been able to describe my pregnancy as graceful and illuminating...but it has felt like I have been floundering in *just* deep enough water wherein I cannot find my footing, sputtering and coughing and trying to survive...maybe I have been enlightened by dismantling all of my expectations of what I thought pregnancy would hold...slash what if all of that is in fact the essence of pregnancy and motherhood and, dare I say, enlightenment?
ps...will I ever find a hair colourist in London who can do 'lived-in california surfer blonde'? Le sigh...