Love Hotel

I'll walk

Fuckin' Fuck. I just wrote this huge entry and I lost it somehow, between previewing it and posting it.

I'm not doing it all again. But I will do part of it again, cause that's just the kinda gal I am.

I had a fantastic house/baby warming party. I got to talk to adult humans that I like and who are fun and cool for hours and hours and then they all left by 7pm to beat Seahawk's traffic. We knew they'd won because the folks in our neighborhood set off fireworks. I was going to invite our neighbors and forgot which turned out to be just fine because a lot of them were appalled that we were having a party and not watching the game, not game related in any way. THE Game to be precise. The Seahawks are goin' to the Superbowl people.

The party for me was like a miracle. I just sat and talked about babies and pregnancy and made fun of myself and told horrible stories and talked to people who had recently had babies and who have never had babies and don't care about babies and Paul showed them the house and went for a drive with a friend of ours to practice for his license and it was just great great great. We got presents and opened them while people watched. I got slipped cash by people who didn't bring presents. I was so cute and cool and fun. We got a couple of toys and Tobey the Ten Month Old helped break in the plush blocks, so they are dutifully and rigorously pre-slobbered. I drank a beer and my face turned bright red (I'm allergic to sulfites) and I've never been so happy to have a bright red face and a headache ever.

Today, Paul and I went to our Infant CPR and Safety class. There were two couples there from our Childbirth class and we explained to them why we didn't go to the last class. Turns out they're great when you get them in a small group. They told us they missed us and gave us the info for the reunion for our class. They were really nice and I got the impression that part of the reason they didn't complain so much about things like heartburn, constipation, gas was they felt like it was trivial. I forgot about that weird white person thing about like you don't complain to someone you think is really sick/sad/in pain that you've got a hemorrhoid.

I had a very good sleepless night after the whole puking in public, tearing a muscle in my side fiasco week. And, of course, I realized what had happened. I forgot something very simple. I am in Charge. I am actually the Only One In Charge. I am the HNIC of me. I don't have to do anything I don't want to. In fact, I don't have to do anything at all. I could have this baby in my bedroom if I want. I don't have to "try this test again". I don't have to "take this medication" even though it makes me feel like crap.

My blood pressure is not high. It's on "the high end of normal". I do not have gestational diabetes. My blood sugar is on "the high end of normal". I had the experience I've had at a few crucial junctures in my life of realizing I'm at the bottom of some well I don't remember falling into. Cause I didn't fall into it. Somone was carrying me along because I thought they should and they were like "Here, this is where you should be." And they dumped me off there and I sort of wake up and go "What the hell is this? This sucks. Where's my flashlight?" And I crawl out and the people who were helping are still there and they're like "Wow, that exercise did you good. Do you need anything? We can help you get to..." And I'm like "No thanks I think I've got it. I feel much better." "But we have this cool tram and we can just put you on it and..." "No, no I'm good. I can walk from here." And they're like "Well, we don't recommend that. No one knows what's between here and where you think..."

No. Thanks. I'll Walk.

Posted by jlp716 at January 24, 2006 12:38 AM