Marching on. . .

still no baby. due next tuesday, which, when midwives are in charge? doesn't mean much.  we'll go til the baby is ready, they say... so its possible i could make Guinness Book of World Records by being the most pregnant person EVER.  maybe i'll be like the elephants and make it to 12 months.  boy, that would be something. 

otherwise, life is startling in its ability to keep on keeping on.  Its the opposite of that blank feeling you get when someone dies, that negative space gaze that you turn out onto the world of people who have 'not' just experienced a death, or trauma.  there is so much life here in me that i am struggling to be its containment. 

I've (still, and again) turned inwards. and am amazed and startled by the things that bring me back to the outer world.  at this point, there is not much my kids can do to startle me, i've become flinch-desensitized, could rush the bus with my eyes closed and my hands packing snacks.
 but adults, habits, repetitions, sameness?  i confess i rush to judgement.  oh goodness. i can't believe the globular sensations i have don't spread! how can this slowspeed push through gelatin that i am living not apply to all those around me? how?  is it not in the air, this 9 1/2 mos of swimming in fog?

oye.  we prepare for halloween in our fashion.  zombies, zombieme.  dry ice smokes me out, i hope. we will see...

Tell me i'm a genius. all the time.

I posted something on facebook which was political, and was basically calling the Romneys out for being part of the package which has caused our countries economic crisis.  and i meant it, not really specifically that one family, but as far as they are part of the bigwig establishment which actually CREATED the terms 'entitlement' and 'offshore tax havens'...
And I got responses which disagreed with me.  And they were cousins' wives, and they were very polite about it, and pointed and intelligent in their disagreements.  I don't mind that they did that at all, and I wasn't surprised because I have long known their tendencies towards the 'other sides'.   But what did surprise me was how uncomfortable it made me.  I wanted to take my comment down immediately upon the first disagreement, and I didn't, because I thought it would mark me cowardly in some way.  And I spent an inordinate amount of time crafting my responses, checking to see if there were more comments, etc.  I didn't sleep well that night, either, thinking about it. . . (and i am in desparate need of a good nights sleep, because my belly is the size of your largest pet. -hamsters not included, i'm thinking Labradors..)
what i came to is this, not shockingly, I do not like disagreement.  the suggestion that someone might not think me totally brilliant is upsetting. its not that i think everyone has to think the way i do about the Romneys and the direction our country should move, I don't.  But the thought that someone 'out there' might think less of ME because of my views is unsettling.  I think I ended up feeling less because of it all.  whaaaa?

I have a feeling I've got some work to do on my self-esteem. 

I also feel the burn when it comes to my own defensiveness, my flash to judgement of 'them'... none of it comes out on paper but it certainly roils its way around in my head for too much time.  how dare they not believe me to be a genius, all the time?  how dare they, with their lives of priviledge and success, not have formulated all the same opinions as I ?  how DARE they?  burn baby, burn.  the judgement is yet another work issue that i've got going on.  thank you.

9 mos pregnant and really really looking forward to the baby, so i can focus on something besides myself for a little while.  i think the break'll do me good.  sheesh.

Trust and No Trust

a snazzy name of the game, aye? trust and no trust.
probably should involve some sort of rope, and a helmet or a belay system.
for oneself, for one's mate, for one's friends, the moment-to-moment nature of the insubstantial, repetitious doubt, the self-recrimination for belief...

can one remove the subject and still fill pages with writing?
the attempt will be made.  has been made. could be shared, but can't be ...

there is writing that i love that is so imagistic that i cannot imagine the life of the writer as anything other than a series of fall leaves and salt water tears, periwinkle blues and painted landscapes...  i crave the expression in image. crave.

jealousy springs from nothing less than a lack of trust, in oneself's own power and self-sufficiency.  its not something i've really had to deal with in my life so far, but with a collapse of trust comes the inevitable comparisons, the ill-fated old-feeling of invisibility come back to haunt.     what does a wife and mother do when she realizes that others define her even more narrowly than her struggle had allowed?  what does this matter, its my own definitions, yes? orgh.

i'm in a rut of despondency, feeling the enormity of my situation in so many ways.  the substantial problems of moving something of my girth through the aisles of the grocery store.  taking hours to complete the shop, having to rest in the car before the drive home.  wanting to take a bath but somewhat exhausted-in-advance by the thought of climbing the stairs to get there.
so much hope for 'this is the last time'... waiting, waiting. . . the clouds dispersal...revelation awaited.

i want my mom.  i want my pammylala. i need some comfort and hand-holding, something to get me out of this grown-up loneliness which i have built for myself.  its own periwinkle shell on the winter shore.

i have no idea how i am.

spring at the homefront, just needed an image upon which to rest my wearyeyes.

 

 

getting nerves about upcoming labor. normal.
still in my pajamas today and spent a whole day in them earlier this week. not so normal.
off to the left of the computerscreen is the phone list, in case of emergencies, (um, just one in particular actually, and its not really an emergency, but a given event coming down the pike, pun intended!) midwives, families, etc. it makes me nervous too. 

other than the nerves, i am looking forward to the change... painful contraction though it may need.
i think that i'm looking  towards it in a fairly abstract way.  i feel like i've been put on hold for the last few months and I am ready to move on. I need the action to spur me out and onwards.
who knows what the next months will bring? it is better than believing what is 'to be' as a ceaseless repetition.  it is much much better.  and although the belief is make-believe, as much as what one believes of the future must always be make-believe,  it is common around these parts, around my brain. 
there is also the resolution of the mysteries coming... who the hell is this kid in my belly? a boy, a girl, a gymnast, a contortionist? will they be a good sleeper, a wild weeper? will hubsJ be at the birth?
how will the boys handle the sibling growth? 

the kids have been doing wonderfully lately, growing, leaping, bounding, playing with one another as if they enjoyed it, even.  i regularly lose my shit with them between 5 and 6 in the evening but i am going to both blame AND discount my pregnancy gigantorama for this situation.  at that point in the day i can hardly breathe, much less find the rational part of my brain. it is not alltogether unfamiliar, that timeperiod beast.

i wish i could say that my lame-ass posting record of late was because some things busywonderful were going on, but no. just regular, laundry and puttering... childrearing and bellyswelling.

who-hah.