Feeling the fever

So everyone is pregnant, as far as I can tell.  Everyone!  But, uh, not me.  Not trying, even.  Due to the pills I’m on, probably couldn’t be even if I tried.  I just, like, have eyes and can’t help but notice that everyone is pregnant.

I’m sure it’s hyperbole, but today, for example, I went through the +15 to the next building to grab some lunch, and saw, I swear, 7 very pregnant ladies.  Two were standing in front of me in line.  Walking from my office to J’s daycare?  It’s a 10 minute walk though the +15s, and I have never seen less than 4 pregnant women.  (Okay, sure, they could be the same ones everyday, but I still see them.)  I work in a group of 30 people, 13 of whom are female (not bad for a STEM field), and 2 of them are pregnant.  I’m back downtown, working in a very corporate world, and I’m surrounded by lush, fertile women who are gloriously, roundly pregnant.

And I’m so jealous I’m practically salivating.

I’ve said it before, I was never really baby hungry before I  had Baby J.  It was a cerebral decision, more than anything.  I never had baby fever, or heard a ticking clock, or whatever other cliche that can be used to describe the longing for a baby.  But now?  Holy fuck, you guys.  WANT.  NEEEED.  It’s the strangest feeling.  It feels like a walking cliche, to be so eager, but here we are.

And while we are totally planning a second, not yet.  I’d rather have them +2 years instead of -2 years apart .  I *just* got back to work, and I owe it to myself to give this a serious go.  I’m still on the domperidone, and that’s done insane things to my cycle.  It’s not fair to J to do anything until we figure out what’s wrong with her.  (She’s down to 17 pounds – 1 pound over her 5 month weight.)  I refuse to wean until she stops losing weight or at the very least starts drinking any form of calorie, and I want to have my body to myself for a few months before I get pregnant again.  I’m simply not ready to try again yet, and neither is David.  Mentally, I get it.  In fact, mentally, I have no desire to start trying right now.

But viscerally?  WANT SO MUCH.

At the end of the day, we’re all just animals, right?  It’s stuff like this – this crazy longing – that really brings that home to me.

34 weeks along, looking like I ate the world.  Why do I miss this so much?

34 weeks along, looking like I ate the world. Why do I miss this so much?

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Feeeeelings

Oh, god.  I just got the package from the daycare, with all the forms, and the handbook.  And I am having SO MANY FEELINGS.

Jess was a disaster at the fitness class today.  Whiny, clingy, randomly inconsolable, before being fine for a while.  (Teething?  Maybe?  She has to get some eventually, right?)  And I’m torn between feeling sad for her, at the struggle she will have to deal with adults who are not me (child got her fear of strangers at 3 months, and it’s lingered) and feeling glad for me, because she will have to get better at letting adults who aren’t me pick her up when she is sad.

I’m reading through the day care handbook, and it really does sound like we’re sending her to a good place.  “Outdoor time is scheduled at minimum twice a day and more often when time and space allows for it.”  “We provide a morning snack, lunch and afternoon snack that is cooked and prepared at our x location.  The menu is reviewed and prepared quarterly by a nutritionist and follows The Canada Food guide recommendations.”  “Televisions are not used in any of our classrooms for watching movies, or television.”  Actually, it sounds in more than a few ways like a more structured, involving, stimulating environment than home.  What, a trip to Ikea isn’t as stimulating as a sand table and twice daily walks outside?

BUT MA BABEEE!  *insert weeping*  Even though we’re in a phase where my whole day is spent waiting for it to be nap time.

I am just so conflicted.  Someone please tell me awesome things about daycare.  I don’t seem to have any friends who are in my situation, and so I turn to you, internet, to tell me the perks of handing over my child to trained experts.  Because as much as I am looking forwards to it (I’m not loving this stage, right this week), I’m also really, really sad.  (And eating my feelings.)

Countdown

We’re in countdown mode mode.  My official back to work date is March 6th – Jess’s birthday.  I may use a couple of my vacation days to ease myself back in, but at any rate, mat leave is ending.  And I have SO MANY FEELINGS about it.

First and foremost, it’s gratitude.  I love this country, and I will continue to keep paying EI for the rest of my life, grateful that I pay in to a system that pays out when I needed it.  Grateful to live in a society that sees the value of having a parent stay home with the baby for a year.  Grateful that I got the year to recover from the traumatic birth and PPD and get to the point of loving my baby, and enjoying my baby, without needing to work at the same time.  Without having to worry about money overly much.  Grateful for how much easier this year was, that it would have been if I lived in the States.  Grateful for a year spent with my little sweet baby at my side all the time.  Grateful.  Just so grateful.

Second, I’m a little excited to go back to work.  I have an office on the 30-something floor of the tallest building in town.  (Alas, I’ve lost my window, but all internal walls are glass, so at least there should be light.)  At the Christmas party, I ran in to one of the engineers who had been promoted to lead in my absence, and she offered me a job in her section of our group.  A move that my boss has already approved, so my agreement was a formality, but still.  They are looking forwards to me returning, and I’m glad that I’ll be returning as a full on tech.  No admin work now – the group has a full time admin.  I’m actually on a separate floor from the support staff in our business unit – I’m sitting upstairs with the engineers.  This suggests that my promotion is no longer just in name.  This is excellent.  In talking to one of the other engineers, there is a bunch of work that they are just waiting for me to come back and do.  This is good.  After years of being underemployed at the office, I look forwards to the challenge.

Thirdly?  SAD.  How can I leave my baybee all day?  So many feelings!

Fourthly: relieved.  I have friends who stay home with toddlers, and others multiple pre-school aged kids at home.  And you know what?  That looks really, really, really hard.  The short attention spans, the power plays, the constant need of stimulation, the constant attention…  I don’t think that age will be my finest hour as a parent.  It might be a good thing that the kid gets to spend a chunk of her day with trained adults and a room full of playmates.   Don’t get me wrong – I love my kid.  And I am loving this age – independent enough for “play” with books for 20 minutes at a stretch, takes good naps, easy to lug around.  I’m just not sure that I’ll love the next  age as much.  Um.  It looks exhausting.

Fifth?  Worried.  The logistics of day care, of getting us up and out every morning.   The insanity of David’s company, who keep changing where he’ll be working for the next 6 months, which means we keep switching our daycare centre, and that’s a pain.  It’s complicated, but basically, the downtown daycare works if he’s near downtown, as his company pays for parking.  If he’s located in the deepest south, away from downtown, it doesn’t work unless I take the baby on the train every day, and that would be a nightmare.  Paying for parking would be ~600/month, and add that to daycare costs, and working becomes too close to barely a break even thing.  So if he’s south, the baby has to go to one of the chain’s south locations.  Which means I don’t get to commute with either of my favourite people.  And don’t suggest a daycare close to home – the only one that would return my phone calls?  After touring it, I cried a little and talked about quitting my job.  Not the place. Even just the logistics of getting 3 people up and out of the door every single morning sounds tough.  And making and eating dinner and playing and bath time in the short evening window.  And getting Jess on a 7-7 schedule.  (We’re working on it.)  So many logistics.  We’ll get there, but it sounds tough.

Sixth would be more of the sads.  So many sads.

But for now, I’ll go to mom and baby fitness classes and as many play dates as I can and a quick vacation to Texas, and enjoy the hell out of time that’s left of this marvelous window of my baby’s life.

Hmm

So.  Now I know what an very early miscarriage both looks like, and feels like.

On the upside, I can have a drink (or 5) tonight.  And I didn’t waste money peeing on a stick only to have this happen.  And I know I can get pregnant.  And.  Well. I guess that’s it for silver linings.

Damn you, commercials

So, for years I used to mock those pregnancy testing commercials.  You know, the ones about how you can test super early?  I was always like, “you can’t wait 3 more days?  Jeeze, people.”

And now?  Now that time is standing still?  I UNDERSTAND THE IMPULSE. 

Refuse to give in, of course.  General principle meets cheapness.  But I still understand. 

 And feel the shame because of it.  🙂

Crazy time

I’m not, perhaps, the most patient person.  Also, I’m crazy, and that never helps anything. 

I’m at that waiting period, where life continues along, but the little voice in the back of my head keeps wishing and fretting and hoping.  Does that sudden rush of nausea on the train mean anything, or is it a simple but new-to-me low blood sugar crash due to a light dinner the night before? My large breast are ginormous today (I couldn’t do up my COAT) but is that a sign or is it because I made salty popcorn and am retaining water in the chestal area?  Today’s fitness class, called I like to call Death by Cardio, slayed me.  Was that just because it was unexpectedly brutal, even by the standards of the class, or because I haven’t been sleeping well, or?? 

In this case, time very much will solve my problems, but right now I’m counting days and rushing through any furniture project that involves lots of fumes in small spaces.  And, you know, over analyzing every single freaking thing.  Because that’s what I do.