Dear Reader,
It’s been a little over a week since the election, and I am not surprised. Disappointed and deeply disturbed, yes, but I’ve seen too much of both domestic and global trends in recent years to have expected otherwise.
Yet I hoped. I had so hoped for a leader that would, at the very least, display even the thinnest veneer of decency. Alas. The president-elect and his ship of fools are blatant schoolyard bullies. The pendulum has fully swung towards a less coherent version of Biff Tannen from Back to the Future.
I haven’t been sure of how much to allow myself to feel legitimately upset about this, versus letting go and focusing only on what I can control (which is not much at all) because this is all happening at a very strange and pivotal time in my life.
I am currently 9 months pregnant, and my baby is due any day now.
Taking a moment here to acknowledge that this kind of announcement can be tremendously painful for anyone that has ever experienced infertility or loss. I can only imagine, and I am sending you all my love. I’m going to spend the next few paragraphs describing what this experience has been like for me, so just know to take some space for yourself if it’s a difficult subject.
It isn’t easy to be a portal for another human being to enter the world.
This has been one of the most physically, emotionally, and mentally demanding times of my life, and I don’t even have a newborn yet. My doctors love to remind me at every appointment that I am of “advanced maternal age” (I’m 36) and even though my eyes roll all the way back when they say this, part of me can actually see how being pregnant in my 20’s might have been easier — at least less physically challenging.
Twenty-year-old me could get 2 hours of sleep on a stranger’s couch after a night of drinking and still be game to go for a hike the next day. Thirty-six-year-old me is a teetotaler who feels sore the next morning if I went to bed with the wrong pillow. Carrying this baby for the last 9 months has come with a whole slew of fun new bodily sensations.
Let me bore you with a list of symptoms:
MORNING SICKNESS – SHOULD BE RENAMED:
NAUSEOUS ALL THE TIME.FOOD AVERSIONS
HYPEROSMIA: OVERWHELMING SENSITIVITY TO SMELLS. NOSE VOLUME ALL THE WAY UP
EVERYTHING MAKES ME GAG: BEING HUNGRY, DRINKING WATER, EATING FOOD, THE SMELLS OF FOOD, THE SMELLS OF ANYTHING AT ALL, BRUSHING TEETH
ACID REFLUX
BURNING THROAT
BLEEDING GUMS
CONGESTED THROUGHOUT 1ST TRIMESTER
SCIATICA
NERVE PAIN
LIGAMENT PAIN
SWOLLEN LEGS AND FEET
SHOES NO LONGER FIT
RESTLESS LEG SYNDROME
LEG CRAMPS
SLEEP DEPRIVATION
DUE TO:CONGESTION / INCESSANT NOSE BLOWING
NAUSEA
BODILY DISCOMFORT
PEEING EVERY 2 HOURS
BABY MOVING AROUND A LOT / KICKING ME IN THE RIBS.
SUPER UNCOMFORTABLE LAYING DOWN OR SITTING UP
ANEMIA
FATIGUE
UNABLE TO TAKE A DEEP BREATH BY 2ND TRIMESTER
BABY IS COMPRESSING INTERNAL ORGANS
USELESS BLADDER
SKIN TIGHTNESS, FEELING LIKE I DO NOT FIT INSIDE MY OWN SKIN
UNABLE TO BEND OVER
GOOGLING HOW TO PUT ON SOCKS IN 3RD TRIMESTER
This is not a complete list. There’s more, but I’ll spare you the details.
I’m sharing all this because pregnancy is often marketed as this magical glowy time, and the tough parts don’t get discussed enough.
Every individual’s experience is different, and for some it really is a wonderful time. Despite the common side effects, I feel extremely fortunate, and I would say that my case was somewhere on the mild side to middle of the prenatal discomfort scale. Many have it so much worse, or experience serious health complications. I am immensely grateful to have had a healthy pregnancy throughout. And I would never wish this on anyone who didn’t willingly choose it for themselves.
I will always vote for people to have a choice as to whether or not they want to be a parent. I will always vote for more rights, not less.
I was glib earlier about child-bearing being potentially easier in my 20’s, but I would’ve been a terrible parent. I was not in a good place back then, and I’m grateful to have had access to contraception and reproductive rights so that I could choose when or if I was ready to start a family. I am much more stable, grounded, and responsible now. I have an amazing partner to do this with. I know myself better and am ready to welcome a new person into the world. Children deserve parents that want them wholly.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s the ethical thing to do; introducing another kid to planet earth under a regime that doesn’t believe in climate change, or basic facts in general.
With so much chaos in the airwaves, I feel a great deal of pressure to be intentional about parenting. To be present. To choose curiosity over fear. To somehow impart that decency matters, kindness matters. Honesty, integrity, and accountability all matter.
Thane and I have been attempting to learn how to be good parents. Sometimes it feels like cramming for the biggest exam of our lives. Yet there’s only so much you can learn from books and internet searches. I am trying not to put too many expectations on myself, while also trying to be prepared.
Is there a book on how to be a parent when sexist, misogynistic, racist, xenophobic, homophobic, transphobic, oligarchical climate change deniers are handed a megaphone? How do I focus on fostering joy, acceptance, compassion, curiosity, and care?
I’m thinking back to when Thane and I started a garden this summer. We started late and didn’t expect much to survive, but we did it anyway in the hopes that something good would come out of it eventually. It’s too easy to be pessimistic — to only see the negatives and get in your own way. Too hot, too dry, too late, growing season is almost over. I tend to err on the side of cynicism, and I try to catch myself when I start thinking this way.
For every negative, I’ve had to learn how to create a positive. Even if it’s highly unlikely — there’s no moving forwards if you simply give up or only focus on the bad things. I truly believe that attention, perception, and imagination are powerful forces. If you can imagine it, then there’s a chance you can build it. The power of perception is directing your attention towards what you’d like to see more of, even if it doesn’t exist yet.
It can feel trite to say that art is important right now. But creation of any kind is a powerful form of resistance, and always has been. It’s the opposite of passivity. So paint, write, play, plant seeds, bake bread, take care, do whatever it takes to tend to your gardens in the hopes that something good might grow from it.
“The true meaning of life is to plant trees under whose shade you do not expect to sit.”
Lastly, for the record, I’d just like to say that I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished during my first and only experience of pregnancy.
In the last 9 months I have: worked full time, traveled to Taiwan to retrieve my dad’s ashes, went eclipse-chasing in Texas, flew to North Dakota with terrible morning sickness and our cat in tow, started a vegetable garden, participated in an artist residency on Vashon Island, served as a juror on their selection panel, traveled to Iceland, taught 25 workshops, and somehow managed to continue these monthly newsletters. All while keeping up with doctor appointments, therapy, prepping postpartum meals, and learning as much as possible about babies because I knew absolutely nothing beforehand.
It’s just a waiting game now, before the next big adventure begins. We are so excited to meet this little one. More than anything, I am praying that we make it to the other side safe and sound. Wish us luck!!
Love,
Melanie
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♥