Mercy

I haven't quite figured out the cycles of this pregnancy thing.

A few days ago I was in a frenzy of cleaning (well, frenzy for me) and then I was busy with meeting a friend and wandering around Greenwich Village in the beautiful Spring-like weather. Okay, it was actually Spring, but it's been so cold, I don't quite believe it. I went ot a movie with Sean and stayed out late-- almost 10 0'clock!

A few days before I was in a funk. Just kind of pissed off, the kind where you growl under your breath at innocent people trying to walk down the street because you think they're taking up the whole sidewalk, or something stupid like that.

And yesterday, I was a lump. Couldn't get up from the couch. Gave up and stayed there, reading, napping, snacking. At first I was angry at myself, thought I should be able to get something done, but then I realized that sometimes our bodies tell us what we should be doing. Those are signals-- hunger, pain, exhaustion-- signs we need to eat, to rest, to sleep.

I am often angry with myself. I don't live up to my own expectation. I expect I should be perfect, and I'm not. Then I get angry and start beating myself up. I'm lazy, boring, irresponsible, stupid-- whatever it is that day that makes me less than perfect.

I'm still working on allowing myself to be human. Being human in general means that sometimes you are on top of things, and sometimes you are not, sometimes you fail, sometimes you do less. Does that mean YOU SUCK!? No, no. It means you're human.

And being pregnant it's almost like everything is heightened. I am even more at the mercy of my internal workings. Workings, I might add, that I seem to have no control over.

Maybe what I need to do, in life, as in pregnancy, is to learn how to just go with the flow. Whatever is, simply is. It doesn't mean I suck. Neither does it mean I am a good person-- because then I fall into the trap of sucking again, simply because I don't meet the next expectation. I really need to stop judging myself, and give myself the same leeway that I give others.

Maybe I should also stop trying to be in total control of me. I am a self control freak, and here I am, pregnant and at the mercy of hormones and food intake and sleep urges. I feel almost as if I have to yield myself to this new life.

A wierd idea. I've been so independent for so long. Is this preparation for the kid to come?