Friday, December 7, 2012

Being Heard

Pregnant Log
Pregnant: 24wks]
Mood Swings: I cry, I cry, I cry again.]
[Cravings: CheddarBo Biscuits from BoJangles!!!!!] That I can't have because there aren't any Boj's in Louisana!! *extreme grump*

There isn't anything distinctly that prompted me to write this blog, other than I have been writing a blog in my head almost every day for two weeks now. It's way past due. 

I've been thinking a lot about how far along I am and that BabyG can hear everything around me now. Mainly, me, I know. That's a lot of pressure. I'm scared she's going to come out cussing and spitting out cellphone information. I've started listening to more music as well as specific types more than others. I told myself for years if I was pregnant I would listen to nothing but beautiful classical pieces with an abundance of stringed instruments and I would birth a Mozart.... Realistically it's just been a bunch of indie and non-english speaking music. This baby will be cultured, dammit! I know she can feel the pulses more than the actual music so I've also listened to a share of dubstep. I can tell she can hear Dubstep the most because she moves around the most when I'm listening to it. Mommy's little raver. Hopefully she will be like mommy and be able to celebrate beats and bright lights without partaking of an abundance of drugs. Oxygen and positive energy in a room has always been good enough for me. Get enough happy, dancing people in a room and I will be in the middle of the crowd handing out glow sticks like Mardi Gras beads. 


"We are so domestic." Hubby said to me the other day. 
"And?" I quickly asked back.
"I mean, we're super domestic. Like, stay at home and watch TV in between daily chores kind of domestic." He insisted.
"Is that bad?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"I didn't even notice when it happened but I'm completely okay with it." He mused.
"Well, I sure as hell hope you are, because we're about to get even more domestic." I say, motioning to my swollen belly. 


 I am going to start with the being aware of how risky it is to talk about marital problems at all, much less on the internet. So I am attempting this subject with caution and extreme neutrality... for the sake of telling all of my internet blog stalkers. 

Communication is key. It is the proverbial glue that holds a relationship together. People start with trust, lust and various other things, but for me... it's communication. Obviously. Words play a major part of my life. I want to be able to communicate with the person I'm with and have them communicate right back. Word exchange to me is very much like playing a game of War. You have to artfully use each card and hopefully you end up with the most cards, or no cards... depending on how you deemed the winner. 

So, basically, Hubby and I have a communication hurtle. I like to talk a lot about my issues, and he would rather us not. Any time I express a passionate idea to him I can see the distress in his face and can almost hear the loud rattle in his head as he tries to figure out a decent approach without making me more angry/upset. It's so loud in his head and his lips remain motionless. Somewhere between his brain and his lips the English words get lost and he simply just looks at me, dumbfounded and a bit uncomfortable. Sometimes I back him up into a man corner with my woman issues. I say it like that simply because no matter how equal I want our sexes to be, our brains work in very different ways. For many years I spoke of my manly mind with much pride, being pregnant has slaughtered any amount of manliness I thought I ever had. The simplicity is gone, the cocky self-assurance has taken a long vacation... and most of all, sadly... that little guy that would say, "Whoa, whoa! That's some girly whiny shit right there. Don't you say a word!" has fled the scene.

It's not just one specific thing we struggle to communicate with either, it's various things that I clump together at once and it's hard for him to follow which thing I'm really concerned about at that particular moment. We aren't at a stand still with this either, I can tell we are both figuring out how to approach this hurtle. It's the square peg we are trying to fit in the circle hole. Slowly, we are sanding off the edges to make it fit. It's just frustrating. I can only speak for me, though. I'm blaming it on being pregnant, but I think this is an ex history thing. [I think] he feels like I am attacking him when I am expressing something that is bothering me when actually I'm just trying to let him know. I want him to say, "Now that's just crazy." Or "Shut up, you're beautiful." or even, "I'm sorry." (Even if he needs to apologize or not. Sometimes it's just nice to be apologized to... even if it's misplaced guilt.) Mainly, how we've been dealing with this is I am sobbing while he holds me and I can feel him holding his breath, trying to decide which direction to head. Neutrality is safe, so he stays motionless. I feel unheard and brushed off, or even like he doesn't care at all. 

"I'm not like them. I actually care about you and do love you. I don't like being blamed for your exes." He's said more than once. For the most part he follows it too, we've celebrated the freedoms we allow each other that our previous exes had not allowed us. Being pregnant has stirred up all of my past bullshit and mistakes and faces I'd rather not see again. My dreams run rampant with him leaving me, me reliving not so glorious moments with previous relationships and many mornings I wake up regaining my barrens again and realizing it was only a dream. All day I have those bad dreams playing in the back of my head tugging at my emotions and convincing me things that aren't in reality. I know he loves me, I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. The way he reaches for me when we're sitting on the couch. He loves me in every action he does. I know this. I can feel it. Our problems aren't big, we don't fight. No matter how many times I tell myself this I find myself sobbing at the thought of him leaving. He hasn't given me any reason to be suspicious of his actions or even question how he feels about me. 


Now that I've aired some dirty laundry, I guess I can peace out. All of my qualms are textbook pregnancy paranoias. I've read about them all over the babybump forums and in my pregnancy app... and in my pregnancy book.

So why???

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