Worry

With the quick snapping back of a wobbly neck

My foundation cracks, tears flow

I can’t keep you safe in their arms

And has your spine curved your neck too much today anyway?

Did I not do enough to stop it?

You didn’t eat much this morning

And we meet with the feeding team on Wednesday

They don’t see what we see

A happy healthy baby

They say you’re not on the right curve

So many curves you have thrown us already

Young Tiger

My legs are exhausted from all the tension

Grounding myself firmly so that you have a steady nap

Or so I can rock away your uneasiness

Exhaustion

I never quite anticipated the exhaustion

Even though I have an amazing support system…

I have to lean against the stairwell wall to descend safely, each six times per day that I go down to prepare bottles from my pumped milk

My thighs unsteady, my Achilles aching.

“You just had major surgery,” I can still hear the nurse chastising, when I refused pain meds on Day 3.

The majorness now sinks deep into my low back, which sears hot whenever I tilt my pelvis the wrong way

The majorness keeps me from returning to an exercise regimen, my mildly split abdomen struggling to hold me tight

My breathing, once full, is now shallow and full of worry, causing my digestion to slow and body to tense and vent

Tender pink lines crawl all across my pouching lower belly, a forever story of our expansion

Isn’t it great that the body forgets all of this? Someone said to me recently. I won’t forget.

27 weeks

We wrote an offer on a house today

Almost 2.0 years since my last offer

I don’t know why autocorrect thinks I mean 2.0 whenever I type 20

I’m not that high-tech

I barely fit my belly in the booth at the Mexican restaurant today

2 glasses of milk with lunch

Finally I can write about my pregnancy

Today my hips ache and I walk in heavy baby steps to start. Belly strains where it meets the ribs, forcing me to lift my heavy chest for room to breathe.

Bun-bun sits upright, kicking my bladder from time to time

A two pound head of lettuce

Our wood floor has become slippery, not wet, ever since we installed a humidifier. I have to walk with extra care.

We still get cigarette or weed smoke in one side of our apartment almost every night or day. It’s time to leave.

I’m trying to keep my blood pressure low. Today was not a great day for that.

Day 2 in Chelsea

When you are new to a thing, your learning curve is really high, so I’m hoping to capture some of the things I am learning as I move in to my new place here in Massachusetts.

Did you know that soap can go bad? I’ve kept little hard hotel soaps in my travel bag for probably a couple years or more, and I have learned by trying to use them that they can go bad.

There are lots of little neat things that are different when you go shopping here. I’ve noticed more things that are imported from Europe, and generally I’ve found that prices are cheaper here for groceries. Gasoline is about a dollar cheaper here than it was when I left California.

I came across my first Massachusetts sidewalk “free pile” today. It included some Ray-Ban sunglasses and a cool antique floor lamp. But I only grabbed an American flag pin. I like checking out local free piles. To me it’s like anthropology, “how do the locals live,“ LOL

The weather outside today was warmish but not at all oppressive. I am really enjoying the pleasant weather.

I kept the kitty locked up in the bathroom last night because the night before he got so scared of all the noises and hid behind the washer and dryer and I sincerely thought he had somehow escaped when he didn’t come at my call for several minutes. I think he might’ve been coming down off of his gabapentin drug and was a little extra paranoid. Note to self for future reference to keep him in a small room overnight the first couple nights. Tonight I’m leaving the bathroom door cracked open so he can go in and out if he feels like it.

I am in bed at 2:00 AM, a whole hour earlier than last night! I just have a ton of things to do and I’m hoping to get a little more rest eventually.

So far I’m getting by OK with very minimal stuff. It’s an interesting transition. I might be without most of my possessions for four or 5 weeks in total.

Off to bed then.

Test

My WordPress site has been difficult to publish to from my phone for over a year. I made some tweaks this weekend so let’s see if that worked! I like to blog from my mobile phone at bedtime. An old habit I guess.

Mom

You always cry when we leave

but I never know why

Singing sincerely with breath as faint

As your hold on this world

Letting the song pull you into one more day

A caretaker

Urine on the bathroom floor

Driver, chef, roof shoveler

Will I ever know you

Will you ever know you

Holding pain close in clumps

HUMAN

A forever response to the environment
Dancing with a partner with a thousand arms
Ignoring or acting on our myriad desires
The need to sleep, eat, exercise, communicate, regulate

Breaking and forming habits
That sustain us through the winds of compulsion

Human:

Taking a bicycle out into the dark, cool night
Safety lights mounted
Blasting Ariana Grande from an iPhone
And racing around a quiet neighborhood in a stiff gear
Waving and smiling at peering residents to reassure them you are just living your best life
Feeling like an apocalypse rebel
So free to breathe and be happy in public

Staying connected
Wanting to be seen
BUT
Precisely in the best way we see ourselves
While hoping to be seen for more than our worst

Human:

Saying ridiculous things or singing stupid songs to free our minds from stress
The need to be rid of stress so strong
We are willing to annoy people around us

To express emotion
To scream in primal terror of grief unprocessed
Alone in a big room after a teleconference

To experience emotion
A sudden urgency
A push of pain, fear, elation, disgust, darkness

Or to repress emotion
And integrate when we are safe
To allow our feeling back into our bodies
Tapping them in, breathing them out, softening them through

As if they were no longer dangerous, or wishful
As if through feeling we give birth to something beautiful
Something that loved us unconditionally
And wanted the best for us

And when we are ready
The touch of another human
Without which our minds question our safety
The comfort of a warm hand on our back
Together being human.

Nascent

Leaping into the unknown
Am I non-essential?
Wasn’t that the plan all along?
That if the world needed me,
I would be in a field somewhere
Twirling and learning how to gather up strength
And speed
For precise release at the right moment,
And let those who dream an American Dream
Run up the ladders to the treetops
That never stop fruiting
Stuffing apples into their overalls
And churning sauce for their young,
I dump a little water at the roots
And say thank you when an apple is tossed down.
“You’re just not needed right now.”
And that’s okay
Because while you were busy not needing me
I found ways to be myself
Deep and pure
Present and available
To nurture a seed
Tender and fragile
Nascent
Buried
The most beautiful thing in the world.