45 and pregnant....
Well, amid the twists and turns of my life this year, it shouldn't have been a surprise. I really thought I was over that...done with worrying about it. I might have heeded the warnings of friends and family who said I should be careful, that I might get pregnant. But I didn't, and I am...pregnant, and happy about it.
But I hate the word. I much prefer "with child". That's how it feels. I don't feel "pregnant", but most of the time I am reminded that I am no longer alone in this body. I am now sharing it with a tiny guest. This little bit of a person totally transformed the body I have known for years. The first indication was the way my jeans fit me. Can't explain it really, but they felt different somehow. Then came the nausea. I have to admit, it wasn't as bad as some of the accounts I've heard about, but cooking red meat was not an option for awhile. When it was time for my period, I exhibited all of the signs of a regular monthly cycle...bloating, sore breasts, etc. And I waited for the onset of the menses which never materialized. After a couple of weeks, I was sure I was pregnant or something was really, really wrong. I suppose I was in denial, thinking it impossible for me to have a baby.
I think about all of the times I laughed at the commercials for in-home pregnancy tests. "Just hold it in your urine stream..." And then I was there...doing just that and watching for the big blue plus sign, which appeared within seconds. No longer able to deny it, I went and bought another test, just to be sure - as if I wasn't already.
So now I am with child. My child. Steve's child. And I am happy. A little afraid of how it will affect the rest of my life, but happy.
I think it was all that goddess energy stuff...you know, the otter...embracing the unknown...creating life. And we did. Once you ask the universe for all it's abundance, it responds, and you see all the dreams that you never believed would come true manifest before your eyes. Pinch me...is this my life? Am I this happy?
The hard stuff...not smoking, decaf, eating fruits and vegetables when I feel like chips. The easy stuff...knowing that this is really a "love child", knowing the baby will be "Scout", knowing that daddy is the gentlest, kindest man I've ever met. But perhaps most of all, knowing that I can do this, perhaps better this time. And that I can discover the world all over again through the eyes of a child, while having the wisdom that comes with being 45 and knowing the importance of sharing the beauty of sunsets, being fearless, enjoying books, talking walks in the park and petting the dog.
We are truly blessed.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Thursday, February 01, 2007
the test
Noticed this test thing on Gewels' blog - Imagined Life....so I thought I'd try. Found it a little too accurate.
The Protector
You live your life with integrity, originality, vision, and creativity.
Independent and stubborn, you rarely stray from your vision - no matter what it is.
You are an excellent listener, with almost infinite patience.
You have complex, deep feelings, and you take great care to express them.
You would make a great photographer, alternative medicine guru, or teacher.
What do you think?
The Protector
You live your life with integrity, originality, vision, and creativity.
Independent and stubborn, you rarely stray from your vision - no matter what it is.
You are an excellent listener, with almost infinite patience.
You have complex, deep feelings, and you take great care to express them.
You would make a great photographer, alternative medicine guru, or teacher.
What do you think?
february
Last year at this time, I was doing much the same thing as I'm doing today. Packing and getting ready to move. Last year, I moved more than 1000 miles. This year, probably not quite a mile, from the SLRH to the - well, not sure what to call it yet - but we will own it someday. Last year at this time I was divorcing. This year, marrying.
Like the seasons, life repeats itself over and over again. And I wonder if we're all running in circles, or if it's the details that make each cycle new and different in some ways.
Unlike many people, I despise routine. Not a good thing when one works at home, where it's best to establish a "work day" routine. Sometimes I brush my teeth before I wash my face just to mix things up a little. Lately, I'm thinking, a little routine would do me good. Seems like every day is a new challenge - a new adventure (that sounds much better). And each morning starts with the same questions? Should I pack this morning? Work a little? Check my mail? Clean? Call my mother? The only constant seems to be the coffee - and this week I ran out of that sweet Irish creme additive, throwing my mornings way off. And If I pack, where do I start? If I work, where do I start? Maybe I should check my account balances as new home ownership can be expensive (ching, ching.)
And so I wonder through each day, jumping from one place to another, wondering if it's worth taking a shower just to get dirty again. What I know is that there is no quick way to do all this. I must pack one box at a time, knowing that in a few days I will be unpacking one box at a time. (There's that cycle again.)
February...hard to believe. And I am here, in South Dakota, where everything is frosted with white icing and the temperatures are predicted to be the coldest in 10 years. This, I suppose is one of those details that makes things different. This and the fact that when I wake up each morning, two sweet dogs lick my face and a friendly kitty crawls across my chest. And from the bathroom, I hear the sound of the shower. Reaching towards the night stand, I find a cup of hot coffee just the way I like it, left by a man who thinks I'm worth keeping around. When I get out of bed, I will make him a cup of hot chocolate, and we will sit at the kitchen table and spend 10 minutes talking before the day begins. This routine I love...this I will keep at the house that doesn't yet have an acronym. (Suggestions welcome.)
Like the seasons, life repeats itself over and over again. And I wonder if we're all running in circles, or if it's the details that make each cycle new and different in some ways.
Unlike many people, I despise routine. Not a good thing when one works at home, where it's best to establish a "work day" routine. Sometimes I brush my teeth before I wash my face just to mix things up a little. Lately, I'm thinking, a little routine would do me good. Seems like every day is a new challenge - a new adventure (that sounds much better). And each morning starts with the same questions? Should I pack this morning? Work a little? Check my mail? Clean? Call my mother? The only constant seems to be the coffee - and this week I ran out of that sweet Irish creme additive, throwing my mornings way off. And If I pack, where do I start? If I work, where do I start? Maybe I should check my account balances as new home ownership can be expensive (ching, ching.)
And so I wonder through each day, jumping from one place to another, wondering if it's worth taking a shower just to get dirty again. What I know is that there is no quick way to do all this. I must pack one box at a time, knowing that in a few days I will be unpacking one box at a time. (There's that cycle again.)
February...hard to believe. And I am here, in South Dakota, where everything is frosted with white icing and the temperatures are predicted to be the coldest in 10 years. This, I suppose is one of those details that makes things different. This and the fact that when I wake up each morning, two sweet dogs lick my face and a friendly kitty crawls across my chest. And from the bathroom, I hear the sound of the shower. Reaching towards the night stand, I find a cup of hot coffee just the way I like it, left by a man who thinks I'm worth keeping around. When I get out of bed, I will make him a cup of hot chocolate, and we will sit at the kitchen table and spend 10 minutes talking before the day begins. This routine I love...this I will keep at the house that doesn't yet have an acronym. (Suggestions welcome.)
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