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Freewrite a go-go - Page 4

post #61 of 67

Hess's Free Writes - I'm doing my best to play "catch-up"

Week 1


I'm working from home now - well, kind of - I work some, daydream about the growing life in my belly, and feed my addiction "A Baby Story" on TLC by watching it religiously. I'm watching the show wondering how I'll react once my labor begins - certainly not as crazy as these ladies As I contemplate the miracle of life, I am startled back into reality by a KFC commercial. I salivate instantly at the delicible piece of meat flashed upon the television screen - slathered in a tangy BBQ sauce, stacked with the most perfect carmelized onions, housed deliciously between two pieces of what has to be a freshly baked roll. My eyes are still transfixed to the TV as I blindly grope for my car keys.

Time passes...but I am not present.

Suddenly, I am roused from my trance by "Welcome to KFC. May I take your order please?" I rattle off the name of the sandwich and add a side order of potato logs for good measure. I pull my car forward licking my chops like a dog anticipating a piece of pizza crust thrown his way. Money is exchanged for my bag of grub. Before I can even pull away from the drive-thru window I rummage through the bag, and grab my much anticipated sandwich. Hungrily I rip open the wrapper and there it is in all its glory...the NASTIEST looking sandwich I've ever seen. Despite the fact that I've finally come to my senses, I sink my teeth into the sandwich. I shake my head in disbelief. There is nothing left to do but laugh at this strange trip I've just taken courtesy of my pregnant stomach. I've never eaten at KFC before - I suppose there is a first time for everything.
post #62 of 67

Bravebird -- Leaving

I am leaving the fold of my mother's care, of my known, safe relationship with my mother, and owning my own family, my own self, my own life. My mother who loved me -- who loves me, who I can't be with now. I can't be with her because I need to be a mother to my own son. My mother, who I am finally admitting did not properly mother me -- and now in order to mother myself and mother my son I must break from her. So frightening. I feel like I am walking through sheets of fire, I take a breath and lose my place in life, take another breath and ground myself, take another breath and look at my son, my husband, reach inside and take the hand of the six year old inside of me, take a breath and mother her... Thank you for the opportunity to redo our inner workings, I say to her and to myself. I have dreams that knit my life together. I take a breath and feel the sheets of fire I'm walking through. I keep walking.
post #63 of 67

bravebird -- Anticipation

I have been turning over in my mind recetnly the words of a poem I read long before I became pregnant that always stuck with me -- about how the author woke one morning missing the pain of labor, or not the pain but the way her body rose so certainly to meet it, with such confidence. I know that feeling now. I remember crouching on the hospital bed, the forces of a universe rushing through me, the force of it so undeniable that all I could do was hang on and, yes, meet it. Now I know that that was part of what I was anticipating all those months of gestation, all those moments of wondering about he labor and trying to build my confidence. The moment when your body meets the birth and embraces it-- those moments when your body teaches you what to do, those moments we anticipate with uncertainty and remember with clarity and amazement. I am grateful for that sureness, and again nervous about the next time. We can never know, we can only trust our trusted ones around us and breathe and walk into the moment of letting go. I think of mys on in that moment, how he was doing -- now that I know him I can wonder that. Gosh, how he must have felt -- and I know that he was much more *elemental* then, even more than he is now. HE was part of the doing, part of the feeling, part of the breaking open and knitting back together. I and I anticipated him, although I didn't know it. Now, as I think about how he is growing and what is ahead for him and us, I know that I am blind and wise in a similar way to birthing him -- knowing the present moment, not beyond, and rising to meet it, reveling in the discoveries.
post #64 of 67
Thread Starter 
I'm observing Penny Simkin right now and she recently talked about the sensation of pushing in labor. She described it as vomiting backwards. Vomiting backwards, think about it. Imagine the sensation of vomiting but then imagine it going the other way -- Does this describe pushing for you? What did pushing feel like?
post #65 of 67


It's not so much that I left my life behind, more that I had kind of begun a new one. When Robby came back to Guam (to visit), my emotions were all over the place. Fear of accepting him back into my world. Fear of him leaving again. Fear of love. Fear of pain. Fear of sadness. Fear of Fear. When I decided to leave Guam to be with him, I knew that this was going to be some kind of turning point in my life. As scared as I was, my heart and head were instinctively pushing me to just go for it. I couldn't give up on love yet. Everyday with Robby brought us closer and closer, and I actually marveled at how well our relationship was going. It was lasting too! And it really dawned on me after awhile that I TRULY LOVE this guy. Deep from my heart, genuine, sincere, passionate LOVE. Not like the weird ambivalent feeling I had thought was love in my "previous life". My instincts tell me this time the love is right. REAL.
The decision to create a child was a mutual one, made from pure desire and passionate love. Logic made its way in there, but we were ultimately in love with the idea of bringing new life into this world--TOGETHER. Maybe some people think we're "too young", "unstable", and "mentally unprepared". But I have yet to meet someone, of any age, who was really mentally prepared to have a child. Parenting is an ongoing learning experience that I don't believe you can ever be fully prepared for. Our love was strong enough to convince us that this was the right move for us in both of our lives.
"Motherhood would be good for me," I thought to myself. One committment that I could definitely and willingly make and stick to (for a change!). Something I was sure that I wanted to do. Every day I could feel the love in my heart for my future child growing and growing.

I'm so glad I "left".
post #66 of 67

Pregnancy Test

Five of them. I stopped taking birth control late November 2004. The feeling was so good. I was intentionally trying to create a child! The first test was taken early December--negative. The next one right after my birthday (the 12th)--negative. Okay, here's the hard part to talk about: I didn't completely stop drinking alcohol. Once a week, I'd have a couple glasses of wine. Something in my head was telling me "ah, it's okay" but something in my heart made me feel a little uneasy. Robby and I left San Francisco for Guam (our original home) around the 21st. Holidays!
We weren't having sex most of the time we were there, but I knew that was that chance that I MIGHT already be pregnant. I still drank occasionally and smoked some weed occasionally. Around Christmas time, I decided to take another test. It had been a month since I stopped taking birth control. It came up negative...but that other line was very, very fainly there--just a tiny bit. I was skeptical. Then New Year's Eve rolled around. Having a good ol' time with family, I occupied myself with cooking so that it didn't seem strange that I wasn't partaking in the early evening drinking (as I usually would).
Robby arrive with an EPT test in his backpack, just as I requested. Nervously, I went into the back guest bathroom. It came out positive!! Well, sort of. Another faint weirdo line, but more positive than the last one. Talk about nerve racking! Hmm...my gut was saying that I was pregnant. To say the least, I had half a glass of champagne that night. I know, I know! The first trimester is the most delicate, etc. But it would have been WAY obvious that I wasn't drinking--I even mixed the champagne with some ginger ale secretly. Decidedly, it became my own private little celebration. I wasn't going to let it worry or stress me out.
The next day I went to the doctor with my brother's girlfriend, who was five months pregnant at the time, and it was confirmed: I WAS PREGNANT. Whoohoo!!!
I was a "good girl" from then on. Now, how do I tell my parents that their "baby" was having a BABY?!
post #67 of 67

Morning Sickness

Go figure. The day my pregnancy is confirmed, I begin to feel ill. At first, it didn't hit me that it was morning sickness. For two days it felt like something was seriously upset in my stomach. Finally I went to the bathroom and allowed myself to puke (I had been fighting it for those two days), and I felt better! Well, for a couple hours anyway. I realized it: Morning Sickness.
This became a daily battle, including hiding it from those who I hadn't told yet. Smoking weed when it got unbearable was a lifesaver. My one mini meal a day turned into three healthy ones. Others' opinions bothered me at times, but I also knew that worry, fear, and stree could be just as, if not more harmful. So I reminded myself to stay cheery and positive--between puking sessions.
Soon I was accustomed to the feeling and carried carbonated water wherever I went. Eventually I explained to my mom that the "bad spinach omelet" I ate was actually a child growing in my stomach. My dad was next, and a little harder to reveal the news to, but both parents were initially shocked and then excited about the new grandchild addition. So my three week vacation on Guam was an announcement of "okay, I'm back, I'm pregnant, and goodbye again!"
I left to San Francisco, while Robby was going to say another three weeks to take care of some stuff with his grandma. So I endured more morning sickness by myself. The hormones had definitely kicked in. The weepiness, roller coaster of emotions, and ill feeling combined for a very unstable me! The frist three months were by the book as far as morning sickness was concerned. I kept telling myself "In time, I will look back on this with fond memories." Ha! That wasn't very effective at the time but hey: I do look back on my "toilet days" as fond memories.
What do you know...
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