Nicolas Cagey

I keep starting a blog and never finishing it. Either on the computer or in my head I've written quite a few blogs I just can't seem to get over here and type the damn thing out.

I even started writing it on my phone just to get into some rambly rant thing that just didn't jive right. So here I am, attempt number twenty. Put a stamp on it.

I've been writing a lot in my apocalypse blog. I've gotten sudden inspiration for it. It just started pouring out. Maybe it's because I've felt caged lately. Sequestered. Itching to get out but no where to really go. I'm relearning myself as a person. I'm Mom now. I'm trying not to get too wrapped up in it, though. I think that's how women become twisted and catty. I'm Mom but I'm also me. Zombie and music loving knit hippy. Yup, that's me. But now I change diapers, worry over that noise I just heard and I make sure to read the latest Parent magazine from cover to cover. O, and Pinterest is my bro. I read more recipes than anything else recently. Maybe that's why I'm cagey, I haven't read a book since I got back from NC.

 Cagey... ha...

Nicolas Cagey.

But anyway... that's been my life as of now. I'm pretty surprised as the amount of traffic my blog has gotten. One post and it doubled it's all time views in a week. Maybe I'll actually stick with it this time. Eh. Who knows? I do need to get out of the house though. I keep missing my knitting group. I feel like I shifted "my week" to Thursday to Thursday so I could catch it and I still realize it's Saturday and then I'm all, "Dammit, man! What happened to Thursday?!"

I think I'm slowly overdosing on coffee and Cheers. I really do need to start reading again. I can't lose myself in the zombie apocalypse. There is too much life around me for that. Too much pint sized life. I'm starting to see what people mean by seeing life through their eyes. Her expressions, her smile, the way she blows raspberries... everything. She's just adorable. Her eyes follow you across the room. She even does a sad face if you walk away from her and she wasn't done playing yet.

And what is it with kids and losing ONE SOCK?!

 

Boob Milk Guilt

I'm not super woman.
I'm not even super girl, or one of teen titans.
Aw hell, Ben 10 has it on me.

I feel like I'm constantly going all day but I don't get anywhere. I'm on a treadmill on the moon.
I am also still not able to claim my body as mine just yet. I have to make sure I'm eating enough to make enough breast milk. None of my clothes fit and I feel like I'm carrying around a deflated tire. I'm constantly thirsty because of the breastfeeding. Sometimes BabyG refuses to go to anyone else... Or anywhere else. It's exhausting.

A month and a half in and I feel like I can finally catch my breath but to what avail?  The apartment is a mess. It takes me two days to do one load of laundry and I'm lucky to make myself a meal much less have one prepared for Hubby when he gets off of work.

There is so much guilt associated with motherhood as well. No wonder women get depressed after having a baby. The weight of it all is almost unbearable. So much pressure on all sides. I'm somewhere between "Don't ever let your baby cry" and "cry it out" just to keep MY sanity. I'm still a person and if I want to brush my teeth without holding a baby, well, she's just going to have to be pissed about it out of harms way in her safe area to scream in. I refuse to feel guilty about her being upset if 20% of the time I just let her be pissed.
I've been reading a lot of theories on infants and how to deal with them. Also, since I'm breastfeeding I have to avoid certain foods and if I even smell alcohol I'm considered a terrible wretch and should be burned at the stake. Seriously?! Sometimes a glass of wine nearing the end of my day is the ONLY thing to relax me enough to sleep. Coffee is a must. Some days I avoid coffee AND my treat of wine. Sometimes I have coffee and no wine, other times I have TWO glasses of wine after having no coffee all day.

Some of you are hiking those eyebrows way up into your hairline. Ya know what? Shaddup. Ya heard me. I just got all Brooklyn on you and I'm from North Carolina! Where kids run around shirtless and don't shower for weeks at a time. I've seen facebook photos of people bottle feeding their infants iced tea and even soda. I've watched teen moms smoke and do drugs in the same room as their months old children. So don't you judge me about my small indiscretions. Got it? Honestly, I feel as though I am the average new mom. There is no shame in moderately giving into your mild addictions from prebaby days, ladies. None! Don't misread me though-- if you did heavy drugs or drank to the extreme I am NOT advocating that behavior (even though people equate my two cups of coffee to a crack addiction). I'm just saying don't feel guilty because you had a glass of wine with dinner and didn't pump and dump.

Green Around the Gills

I am very early on in this pregnancy. I haven't gone to a doctor yet. I'm at week 7.

My morning sickness is getting physical. Not only do I feel nauseous I have actually puked. So it was only once but it was carrot juice, okay? Carrot juice coming up is not so much fun. The smell is horrible and warm carrot juice is not a tasty treat. I can't bring myself to drink any today and this morning I was so sick feeling I even forgot to take my prenatal vitamin because the thought of eating anything made me queasy.

 I bought a book yesterday. The more I read the more it freaks me out. Some of the information I've gathered as brought me some comfort but for the most part it even made me nervous about drinking water from any faucet because it might have touched a lead pipe and therefore will make me hemorrhage and die. It instructs those with animals with a flea collar to not touch the flea collar. Could you imagine the panic of petting your doggie or kitty and then all of a sudden, "OMG, I TOUCHED THE COLLAR, IKILLEDMYBABY, ZOMG, FREAKOUTFREAKOUTFREAKOUT"

Yeah, that would be me. Luckily we don't have an animal but there are so many fears associated with being a pregnant woman. "I'm going to have to get you a tazer gun" says Hubby, "Pregnant women are more prone to attacks." O great, lets just add that to my fear of anything I eat, the air I breath and accidently touching a flea collar. That makes me feel peachy. "You need to start driving my tuck," He has said to me before, "Your car isn't that safe. I don't trust it if you get into a car wreck." He says. My tiny little eco-car really isn't built for protection... got ya... but what was I before I got infected with his DNA? Chopped liver? C'mon, man... why am I so fragile now?

I'm prone to being paranoid. Yes, let's start with that insight. I have a grand fear of being arrested for something that I didn't do, zombies, spiders, dust, and closed in dark places. As you can see, I carry very irrational fears around in my pocket every day. Spiders? I know some of you guys share this fear but how many of you have been BITTEN by a spider?! I have! I slept through it, even! I had a weird bruise/swollen area on my collarbone for WEEKS! I could've died and slept through my demise! No fighting chance at all! The cop thing... well, I blame that on my parents. "Buckle your seatbelt or that nice police man will carry you off and then you'll never see mommy again!" Yay for fear mongering your kids until it developes a real fear!

So, now that you know my top five fears I can now add to my paranoia because I'm carrying a living thing inside of me. I always viewed pregnancy as a scene from Alien vs Predator when the baby alien bursts through the chest of unsuspecting people. Fear, anger... no matter how dead those people always looked they seemed to scream and scream and scream while the alien life form crawled out of their ribcage. All of my closest friends either was pregnant, had small children or became pregnant while I was friends with them. I got to experience their pregnancies by proxy. Since I was their close friend they didn't sugar coat anything with me, "I puked for two hours straight yesterday." and "I feel like they're in there boxing my lungs and using my ribs as a xylophone!" Fear. Fear, I have. I'm just beginning! This is the beginning of a very long year. Luckily it's going to be during the winter but winter has always made me uncomfortable to begin with... and now I get to wear tons of clothes over my huge body and overheat and feel fat and bloated. I could complain for days. I'm glad it's not during the summer though because Louisiana heat isn't a joke! The air is so thick outside it's hard to be out there for long. Part of me thinks that if I consentrate on all the negative things then if it goes much smoother and not so bad then I can truly appreciate it. I keep mentally preparing myself for anything horribly wrong that could happen. That way, I'm not dumbstruck or think, "This could never happen to me and the baby" because in my head it already has.... seven times. I'm not stressing myself out too much though, just staying realistic about the entire thing. Shit happens, ya know?

I also have lost all desire for work. I just want to be home, curled up in a ball, sleeping the day away. Laying down makes me less sickly feeling. I'm exhausted. I wake up sometimes and get a good thirty minutes of feeling completely normal, completely rested and ready to take on my day. That feeling is usually quickly taken away from me the first time I bend over to reach for something or think about food. I feel terrible. Work being so slow also doesn't help. I don't want to just hold down a chair, I want to work when I'm at work. It also doesn't help that work hasn't been so awesome lately too... soooo much drama and adults acting like children. It seems like ever since I realized I was pregnant this job lost all importance to me. I don't have the drive I had before. I think I'm too sidetracked with my own drama in my head to focus. I know that it's horrible to say, I just got this job... but at what cost? My body is making it difficult enough for me to function,

I just don't have the energy to worry about childish bullshit at work too.

Slime Ball

I'm pregnant.
With child.
A walking incubator.
I'm having a baby.

Terrified. Yeah, that's a good word to describe how I feel. I'm scared I'm going to hurt it. I really hate calling my fetus an it, too. Especially since we've already decided on a girl name. Buuut, if my fetus is a boy I don't want to call him a girl name.

Auuugh. I'm also trying to not stress.

Hubby is elated. He's taking the news and future responsibilities with full stride. I'm in the fetal position crying my eyes out. (Mentally) While he is plotting baby seats and threatening future boyfriends the child might have. He also doesn't have to worry about nurturing a growing being inside him.

We have used an online calculator to make a guess of how far along I am. Six weeks. I'm very early in and apparently this is when things could go wrong. I had convinced myself my body wasn't healthy enough to bare the burden of a child. Since I had sold that theory on myself I'm now freaking out trying to make everything okay for the baby. The baby doesn't even have eyes or fingers and I already feel very pregnant and would feel devastated if anything went wrong. I keep reading various ways that the baby would stop development. "It's a decision your body makes" and "Don't blame yourself" is always attached to the medical jargon on the articles I read.

I feel very pregnant.

My nausea is ridiculous. I already can't sleep on my side and the cramps are never-ending. I don't look pregnant. I do feel bloated, gassy and seriously green around the gills..  but it's far too early to have a bump. I feel a bit guilty. I'm speaking too soon. There is still so much that could go wrong throughout the entire process. Everyone is so happy for us. I feel so much pressure to do this right. This is something I can't (won't) quit on. I'm taking my prenatal vitamins and eating much cleaner. My mind is so jumbled.

I just want this to all go swimmingly and have a very healthy baby....

And not gain 100lbs.