Paralyzed From the Brain Down - April 3, 2020

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To say the past weeks have been weird is an understatement. I have been trying to work from home, but it's difficult. What's worse is that I'm home more, but am completely unable to paint! I'm paralyzed and I can't figure out what's wrong. My husband says all psychological problems are inherently fixable if you can articulate what the problem is. So when I can't articulate it, I feel worse, like it's only ME standing in the way of feeling better. If only I were smarter.
One fun thing is that my siblings and I are all talking more online. Yesterday we had the best conversation because one never-available-when-we-group-call sibling actually took part! Unfortunately, they also got mad when I took a (lot) screenshots. I touched up one of the screenshots to show how they should really feel about me. 

I'm thinking of downloading some filters for my next meeting at work and looking like the potato lady I can't stop laughing at this picture. 

And laugh…

If Wishes Were Fishes

Yesterday I had a long-overdue girly-appointment with my OB/GYN. I've been avoiding this appointment for about a year and a half, always hoping to return, not for a check-up, but because I was pregnant.

It's been more than two years and nothing has happened. I have baby fever and see pregnant women everywhere. I talk about having a baby sometimes with Brian. Although he says he wants another baby, I don't hear the longing in his voice and I wonder if he really is glad we don't have another. He has two from a previous marriage and I worry that he feels "full" enough already. I love Alex and Kenzie and Kiff, but I want another of my own. I want to feel pregnancy one more time, to experience the wonder again.

The weight in my chest got heavier the closer I drove to the doctor's office. I parked and sat in the car for a few minutes, composing my thoughts. I walked in the doors and the smell was overwhelmingly familiar - it reminded me of anticipation and giddy happiness. It was the first time I remember not feeling homesick for my family since getting married.

Everything in the office and waiting room was the same except for me. The main waiting area was filled to overflowing with pregnant women. I couldn't bear to be surrounded by so much fecundity so I went to the smaller waiting area off to the side. Tears threatened to spill, humiliating me further. I hate being jealous. I want to be better than that. I'm not.

I'd brought a folded book with me to work on while I waited. I sat there and folded, my chair facing away from the main waiting area and walkway. I was startled by a hand on my shoulder - a nurse had seen what I was doing with the book and begged to see it. Her enthusiasm for my project was like a ray of sunshine in my overcast mind. It warmed me and, for a little bit, I forgot my emptiness.

Sometimes I wish my husband read my blog, that he knew how I felt. Isn't it weird to think there is so much he could learn about me if he chose? Does it matter that he doesn't know?

Comments

Nancy said…
My husband and I were married six years before we had our first child. We thought we couldn't have any and we left it at that not wanting to find out "whose problem" it was. It took another 6 1/2 years before our next child was born...guess we were on the six year plan. Six years later we had a miscarriage. Now my child bearing years are over. I often feel my husband is upset because he always wanted a son, not that he ever loved his daughters any less, they are his life. In the end you take what you get when you get it. Everything happens (or not) for a reason even if we don't know what the reason is. So enjoy your husband and enjoy your children, and what was meant to be will be.
Heather Eddy said…
Thanks Nancy. I really do want to be a person who takes what life offers and runs with it. I guess sometimes the exhaustion of daily living tips me over the edge. I AM grateful - most of the time - and WANT to be content all of the time...
Holly said…
good words, and I do feel how much you enjoy your family, and it's ok to feel sad about the missing souls. That waiting room is the worst; when I was having my miscarriage I couldn't stop crying around all those bellies, and I wanted to punch the doctor in the face when he asked why. I hope the doctor has good words for you about this.

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