A recent trial in my hometown has been on my mind alot. A 20-year-old girl who attended my alma mater hid her pregnancy, delivered her baby in the dorm, and then hid it. Did she commit infanticide or not? Was it accidental cord compression or drowning? This week she was convicted of tampering, but not murder or manslaughter.
I don't know the ins and outs of the trial but I can somehow, somewhat relate to her. Because I remember being a college student and thinking I might be pregnant. And despite now being happily married, financially secure, and 35 years old, I am experiencing an unplanned pregnancy.
My thoughts have been all over the map, and I don't know that I can categorize them effectively so I'll just roll.
First, I've been thinking about how much of a pro-choice person I am. I would describe myself as pro-choice mainly because I don't want the government telling me what I can and can't do with my body. But I totally disagree with the use of abortion as birth control. And I think there should be a limit on when an abortion can take place, like not beyond 12 weeks (and even that is a little far on my spectrum because here I am at 11.5 weeks reading articles about all my baby's organs and how much it looks like a tiny person). Despite being unplanned, my baby is a baby. An oops? Yep. But my baby, nonetheless.
The truth is I don't think I think abortion is "right," but I think sometimes it is a necessary option (kind of like war). In the case of the girl I mentioned above, I would much prefer she aborted the baby than carry it to term and have what happened happen. Not that she would ever have "gotten over" an abortion, but she is now a college dropout who is going to serve time. Her life is ruined in addition to a newborn being dead. And the girls in her dorm who witnessed everything and found the dead baby? Their lives have been forever changed, as have her parents' lives. An abortion would have impacted her life tremendously, but not nearly as much as her decision that landed her in a courtroom.
The issue of irresponsible pregnancy has me thinking about Octomom, too. As with abortion, I don't want the government telling me how many children I can and cannot have. But at the same time, I think it is irresponsible to have children you cannot care for properly. And even more irresponsible is to have those children using technology that is flipping outrageously expensive when you have no one to help you but your mom. As curious as I am about her and her situation, I have not been watching Dr. Phil and reading all the tabloids. It is simply too much drama for me. So my opinion of her, as with most things of which I have an opinion, is uneducated and ill-formed, at best.
And all of this makes me think that I am not as Uber-Liberal as I have listed on my Facebook page. But I don't know what else to call myself? I guess I could go with Dazed for my political leanings and Confused for my religious leanings. That is probably about as accurate a portrait as I can paint.
I have completed my final research paper and reflection paper for my Developmental Reading class and am waiting on a classmate to read the research and offer feedback. Intend to turn those fuckers in by Friday and have a gloriously lame weekend doing nothing.
Here's the rub, though. Now that I will have oodles of time on my hands, well, time after 8 pm, I don't really know what to do. Problems, problems. There is plenty I could do, mind you.
I am starting to feel considerable anxiety about Monday's ob appointment and heartbeat check. Even though I still have moments of queasiness (that sometimes still last hours) and nap neediness, I can't help but wonder if all is well in the uterine world. This is one of the bad things about not feeling miserable from sun-up to sun-down: I worry.
My emotions are in limbo regarding this baby. While I said that D and I quickly moved on after we discovered the pregnancy, I don't feel excited. I am scared to death that something has happened to the fetus, but I don't feel all googly, in-love. Not that I'm much of a googly, lovey-dovey type of gal anyway.
Onto things I am definitely feeling excited about: My backyard garden is coming alive again! I get such a kick seeing the plants reappear. Seeing how they've spread. Trying to remember what is planted where. Starting to move things around. My goal is to one day have an overgrown English kind of garden with paths and odds & ends hither and yon. Of course, this will require the children being out of my hair most of the day, so we're not looking at anything immediate.
I'm out of practice with this here blogging business so I'll just sign off for now. One gets used to not writing.
I don't want to jinx anything, namely the pregnancy, but I think (hope & pray) that I am finally coming out of the fog that is all-day sickness. This is day 3 of not wretching upon waking, and day 2 of not feeling the need to nap all afternoon. I actually laid on the couch today while G was napping and N was at Nana and Pa's and wondered what to do with myself because I simply could not fall asleep. It is a little weird. Maybe like how bears feel upon coming out of hibernation?
My brain feels like it is coming out of a fog, not unlike how I felt the instant I delivered N. It was like a veil was lifted, and I knew what the fuck was going on again in the birthing room. Somehow, though, I have been collecting information and saving it for when I could process it.
And here is what I've picked up about my kids and life in general...even when I've been asleep.
1. Signs that a 5-year-old girl writes and posts throughout the house are really funny. The one on N's door says, "NO BOYS ALLOWED EXCEPT DAD." The one on Mamaw's bathroom says, "No Tootin Outside."
2. Little 18-month-old boys' heads make an extremely loud THUD when they smack against the crib in a fit of fury, but it is unlikely that the force will knock the child out. And, if it does, well, at least he is now asleep.
3. Morgan Spurlock is not the only person in the world who has eaten crap for 30 days straight. How a fetus can survive a diet of Ramen noodles, tortilla chips, lemonheads and Taco Bell is a mystery to me.
4. Kids television shows are the best shows to fall asleep to on the couch. Official cure for insomnia!
5. Perhaps if something we use in our daily life makes us puke while pregnant, we ought to consider not using that product EVER AGAIN? If a super-sensitive sniffer can smell toxic chemicals, it is probably best to avoid them.
6. Brushing one's hair is highly overrated.
7. Lowering one's housekeeping standards is quite liberating. I wish I had learned this a loooong time ago.
That is all the pearls of wisdom I have acquired. I was only in my fog for 5 weeks after all.
D and I are vastly different when it comes to decision-making. He researches, stews, researches more, stews more, and then eventually makes a decision. I look something up, make a quick decision and then run with it. The truth is, each "way" has its benefits and detriments.
One of the big detriments is that sitting next to the other person as they are making a decision is terribly aggravating. D rolls his eyes at me for saying things like, "That looks good. Do it! Do it!," and I roll my eyes at him for saying things like, "Well, maybe we should consider this. And this. And this."
So we squabble, which in our marriage amounts to a fair amount of teasing each other, and then the inevitable acceptance that his way is his way, and my way is my way, and then we come to a agreement. Maybe D would say he gives in or gives up....that seems to be the line he toes, but I suspect there might be a tiny little ounce of him that realizes that perhaps we don't need to look at 30 vacation condos and weigh the merits of each one, including which one has softer bath towels. Maybe selecting between 3 is good enough.
Maybe I think our marriage is pretty solid because even when we disagree, we can generally laugh about what drives us nuts about the other person and come to some sort of agreement without tears, screaming or under-the-breath muttering. Or maybe our marriage isn't solid because D gives in (if this is, in fact, what he always does). But it feels solid to me, so that is what I'm gonna run with. I can always read D's Twitter feed to find out differently, I guess.
So aside from the fact that I love D because he hates sports as much as I do, I love him because of the very silly way we "argue" or whatever it is we do when we disagree about decision-making.
Damn, am I romantic or what? (Twitter feed will most assuredly not concur.)
I have a hard time with periods of time like this....in which nothing is really happening, everything is just kinda stale. I never wish for exciting stuff to happen, though, because past experience has taught me that exciting stuff usually equals bad stuff....like car accidents and illness. So as much as I feel like my life is in a holding pattern, I'll deal.
I have 2 more modules to complete in my grad class, so the light at the end of the tunnel is bright, but I still have more trekking to do. I have decided to take an elementary literature class in the summer. I figure this will be good to have with N starting kindergarten---make me aware of good reads for her.
My day-long sickness is still in effect, although the nausea isn't quite as intense as it was. It feels like I have a mild stomach bug, instead of a serious case. Tired still, but not as intense. Can't see a light in this tunnel, but I have hope that I might only suffer another few weeks. Please god.
D and I have begun the process of planning a vacation, and I cannot wait. We didn't go anywhere in 2008, so we are in need of a change of scenery. The beach is calling to both of us. Thinking of the ocean makes getting through the icky-ness and school junk a bit more bearable.
I signed N up to play soccer with my nephew on a co-ed Y team. This should be fun....or maybe comical is a better word? I am usually unwilling to sign N up for this and that sport team, but when my SIL asked, I thought it would be a good family activity for all of us. Both my brother and SIL work, and it seems like the more children we have, the less able we are to get together. When it was just N and my nephew, it seemed like we saw each other constantly. And I'm sure Nana and Pa will come to see their grandkids play.
This concludes everything I have to say at the moment about my rather dull life. I'm off to shower and read chapters 13 & 14 (my final two chapters to read for this class)! Huzzah!
The basic pattern is as follows:
Wake up. Throw up. (How that is even possible astounds me, but it happens. Every. Single. Day.)
For the remainder of the day, I must eat every 2 hours. Unfortunately, there is virtually nothing that sounds good. And if I find something that sounds good, it doesn't taste good. And if I find something that tastes good, it only tastes good one frickin' time.
Once I eat, I still feel nauseous but not as nauseous as I felt prior to eating.
And then I must lay on the floor and start to doze off until one of my children pesters me.
Saw dr. on Monday. Had u/s since it is a pill pregnancy. Baby is 8 weeks along, so expected time of arrival is October 11. Even though I really won't believe anything until I hear the heartbeat with the Doppler at 12 weeks, I did feel tremendous relief hearing that swoosh-swoosh-swoosh. D and I have to discuss whether we want to do a nuchal translucency screen to check for Down Syndrome since I am 35. Damn, 6 months into this age, and it's like I am a hunched over crone who miraculously conceived 40 years after menopause.
A month or so ago (maybe longer) I blogged about how I didn't like N and preferred G. Times have changed. G is now on my shit-list, and N is the adored child.
N is such a little helper right now. 98% sweet. I did have to take her to preschool last week in her pajamas because she refused to get dressed, but I don't think that will ever happen again. She leaves me alone and lets me feel like crap on the couch and sleep when G naps.
G, on the other hand, throws at least 4 trillion tantrums every single day, most of which include banging his head on the floor, garbage can or kitchen table. The other day he gave himself a bloody lip after throwing himself face-down on the floor repeatedly. When he doesn't like something or want something, he launches it across the room. Or launches it directly into the face of the person sitting near him. I'm thinking the Lexapro from my pregnancy has finally worn off, and he has gone plum CARAZY.
Well, gotta go work on this g-d graduate class. It will be all over my March 30th. God help me.