I've been spending a lot of time in my head lately. Messy business. Very cluttered. I store a lot of crap in there. More crap than normal at the moment actually because Al bought me a Fashion Quarterly the other day. Doesn't he know that those magazines tell you where you can buy all the awesomeness featured on their pages? And that I'm quite fond of shoppy-plotting? Reading FQ is like shopping from the couch (actually, add in a bit of internet and a telephone and it is shopping from the couch, but what he doesn't know yet won't bite me in the ass till later). Maybe he was assuming it'd be like most other issues where I drool over the glossy pages of gorgeousness, but silk dresses, underwear almost on the outside and shoes so high I fall over just looking at them (even when I'm sitting down) aren't my thing and a Hermes Birkin is beyond even my twisted accounting methods. But this issue ... Woah Nelly. Have you seen it? Full of cardys! I love cardys. I love cardys a lot. Marvellous, snuggly, beautiful, woolly cardys. The poor husband. Heh.
But, I digress. Significantly. And waffle. Again, significantly.
I have angst. Or I did. Several hours ago I had angst, and for weeks before that I've had angst, but I've spent so much time staring at this page trying to put words on it this afternoon to try and work through the angst that somehow I seem to have swept the angst out at some point and just not noticed when it went on its merry way. I wish the rest of my housework was like that.
The general whatever has been that despite our decision to move ahead with another little ginger (let's face it, we're all going to be a bit weirded out a little if it's not a ginger), which I know is the right one, I've been ... well ... packing it. I touched base with my obgyn about pre-transfer obgyn stuff the other day as part of ongoing preparation, but subsequently had kittens and am yet to actually suck it up and make the appointment to visit his rooms and discuss it. Chicken, I am. BAAAWK! (That's a chicken noise. In case you were wondering ...)
My thoughts have been so locked in there I haven't been able to get them out, and I've been over-thinking it to hell and back. Quite literally in fact (the hell bit). I keep going back to how damn hard that first eight months was, and as soon as my mind winds back to those days, my entire being turns to concrete. I'm trying to get my head into a space where I'm ready to do that again, but my head's just petrified. And yet, I had a dream a few weeks ago where we were back at the clinic for an embryo transfer, but it was the last one and the others had failed, and I woke up feeling really unsettled. That feeling has stayed on the periphery of my thoughts since and it's been prodding me like a proddy thing, constantly. I can only suppose it's acknowledging my subconscious fear of the potential reality that we'll get through those embryos and they won't take which doesn't stack up with my other fear that they will. I think.
I don't know why I can't get past that first leg - I don't want to ever be that close to losing my mind again, for a start, and knowing that we were just managing through that time was devastating. But on the flip side, we know Cuinn so well now - we know what he needs and why and we've learned so much from him and about him, and most importantly we've learned how to learn from him, and we've gained enough confidence through that that I'm sure (ok, perhaps really, really hopeful more than sure. Sure might be stretching it a bit) we'll be ok. Besides, the baby brought us both to our knees, but the kid ... the kid is awesome.
So why the fear? Buggered if I know. Maybe it's just always there.
3 comments:
Ahh simonne... the fear of the second no matter how he/she gets there is common... If its any consolation though out of my three kids none have been the same temperament wise as babies. But you do have more knowledge for the second and however many more and the unknownness (i know thats not really a word but i couldnt find the right one) of the first baby is never there again!
You know, four years on from Em's birth and I still feel that way at times. It took a long while to fade to the point of entertaining the idea of possibly having another one. You're still in the throes of those shocking first couple of years, and I like that you're admitting it, that you're brave enough to acknowledge what it is that's freaking you out. I don't think many people do admit it. They just plow ahead...
i remember holding katie as a baby,being terrified that i didn't have enough love for another one, because she had taken it all up . . . it was a real fear, but unwarranted. falling pregnant by accident is one thing - because you just end up managing the outcome, but making another kid on PURPOSE, like by design with all the extra assistance (when it comes from what has proven to be a rather demanding gene pool) - whoa nelly, that is some freaky thing and takes some serious thought. good luck. can't wait to be cheering you on from the sidelines whatever you decide to do :)
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