I apologise for not posting for a few days. It’s been a
hectic few days so here’s what’s been happening.
Friday – I had the day off work as my back was not being
friendly. I had lots of pulls and cramps and just knew I needed the day at
home. However, sitting and laying on the couch was not doing me any favours so
I decided moving around was better. I took myself off to do some errands where
I could just walk.
This included going into a department store to look for
maternity summer shorts. I didn’t find any so took a tour of the baby section
instead. I was looking at prams, nappies, cot sheets and other baby paraphernalia.
I came across a Seasme Street play suit
which was just gorgeous. I haven’t bought any clothes for Sticky because I have
draws full of clothes, but I was considering getting one in a larger size. I
told myself that the $20 price tag wasn’t worth it for the 2 months she’d wear
it for so I left it behind.
I got home and decided to watch the dvd of our scan. When it
got to the part when they shook the scanner to try to get the baby to move, I
started feeling bad. Here we were disrupting her sleep just to get her to
stretch out so we could see the sex. Well, we needed to see her organs too, but
I still felt bad and selfish.
As I watched her curled up in a little ball, with her arms
and knees covering her face, I wondered who this little being would grow up to
be. I wondered what kind of personality she would have – would she be
introverted like her father, and like she currently was all curled up, or would
she be extroverted like her mother and want to be the life of the party? Would
she be a mixture of us both and have her quiet and loud times? I sat there in
total amazement that I could watch her move and wriggle about and make these
cheeky grins she was giving us.
I didn’t really think about it for the rest of the day but
something triggered the moment I got into bed and I burst into tears. I told my
husband I suddenly realised I hadn’t bought the play suit because I wasn’t
brave enough. I didn’t really care about the $20. I just wasn’t brave enough to
believe Sticky would make it to wear it. I wasn’t brave enough to trust
everything will be ok.
I was angry at myself for being so weak and negative. I was
angry at myself for being so fearful. I was angry that these emotions are part
of my experience. I was scared that I would never get to hold that precious
little soul who was happy just being curled up in a ball. I was plagued by all
the what ifs. I hadn’t cried so hard and for so long in such a long time.
Eventually, it all came out and I could go to sleep.
Saturday – I woke up feeling drained and exhausted. Crying
tends to do that to me. But, I needed to put it aside because there were things
to do. Sitting at home on Friday made me realise we need to get a new couch. We
were always going to because ours is material which is no good for a baby, but
we hadn’t set a timeframe to do it. I can no longer comfortably sit on it, and
it’s starting to make my back worse so the time had come.
We sat on a variety of couches and debated what we would
get. We finally made a decision and I went back to the store to get the
dimensions to measure it up at home. Luckily I did because we realised it
wouldn’t fit. I suggested to my husband a way to reconfigure it, but, given the
cost of it, he didn’t want to be pressured into making a decision.
I understood that and told him I wasn’t trying to pressure
him – I was just pointing out facts. The couch is no longer good for me. Ordering
a new one will take 12 weeks to arrive. Even ordering it today we would be
lucky to get it before Christmas. If we don’t, we won’t get it until after and
that means I will have to go through the whole pregnancy with a bad couch. He
walked off in a humph and I started to feel very anxious, overwhelmed and
frustrated that my back continues to cause so much grief.
In the end, he agreed so I let him choose the colour –
black! Oh well, I suppose I can suck that up.
We then went to my uncle’s house to check out his pram as he
said he would lend it to us. It looked fine, seemed high enough and was easy
enough to use. All was good until I had to lift it into the car – it was not
light. This could be an issue. We took it home but decided we would go and look
at other prams to compare weight. Lugging this thing in and out of a car was going
to take it’s toll on me over the next few years.
Sunday – We were feeling pretty buggered after couch
shopping and I still wasn’t able to shake the fog that hung over me from Friday
night. We had a list of chores we had to do and again, I was frustrated at how
much I had to ask my husband to do. As an independent person, asking for help
does not come naturally to me.
We decided to look at prams in the morning before the day
got away from us. We walked into the shop and again, I felt overwhelmed. There
are so many choices and each one has a range of different options. It seems the
trend in prams is to have a removable seat/bassinette so the base can also be
used for a car seat. While separating the pieces makes it lighter, the extra
time in having to take the seat off, put it in the boot, collapse the base, put
it in the boot, and then repeat that when you get out, seems a little too labour
and time intensive to me.
One of the prams collapsed all the way on the ground so you
had to pick it up from ground level. My husband just flicked it up with his
foot and said “See, it’s easy.” I had to point out to him that while it was easy
for him, for me, with my back, it was impossible. We walked out with nothing
because there was no outstanding choice. Right now, it looks like I’m going to
have to play weights with my Uncle’s pram and try to build up some upper core
strength.
I know how much I will have to bend, lift and carry with a child.
You can’t escape it, but how do you do it when you are so limited? As my back
gets worse, it’s not just my frustration at my inability to do these things
that annoys me, it’s my concern that my back may prevent me from developing the
relationship I want to have with my child. The thought of saying “Sorry, Mummy
can’t pick you up because of my back. Or “Sorry, Mummy will need to sit down to
give you a cuddle because of my back” breaks my heart. I know those things don’t
define whether you’re a good Mother or not, but given children are interested
in cuddling you for such a short time, I don’t want to miss out on a single opportunity
to receive a cuddle.
I know there isn’t a great deal I can do. I know it means I
will need to adapt my behaviour to compensate for my back problems. I know it
means there is no choice but to accept I won’t be able to do everything I want
to do. Right now, I’m just throwing a tantrum in response to that. I’ll need
some time to get over it!
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