pregnancy observations: 18 weeks

So now it’s July. This year is passing so quickly and strangely, spilling like water. By far the weirdest year of my life. I feel so emptied out by it. Reading things I wrote before pandemic/pregnancy, I think who is that? 

All of the elements of this year are so braided together, I can’t separate one thing out when trying to figure out why I’m feeling what I am. Pregnancy mixed with pandemic mixed with really considering white supremacy and watching America effectively crumble little by little, it’s one of the most extraordinary combinations of new information I’ve ever been presented with. I am so troubled by the lack of care for human beings that the government and billionaires appear to have and demonstrate over and over. I have new empathy, new fear, new priorities, new troubles. In some ways it feels like everything is new, and all of the old things are gone, lost forever. It’s overwhelming to take it all in and know what to do or how to feel. So often I just let it wash over me – now is not the time to have any answers.

Time feels like a flat disc, like a plate, no longer round and dimensioned like a ball. My days repeat the same shape over and over. I’m feeling lost in it. The weeks feel long. The days feel longer. Mid-morning I often begin to feel hopeless because there’s still so much time in the day and no forward movement. Nothing new for my eyes to rest on. I’ve been sleeping in even though I used to love to rise early – now rising early would mean far too much time to fill, and I fear I would start to get panicky by 7:30 am. 

My mind feels flat too. No circumference to find. I move in a line from one thought to the next, nothing has the room to reverberate. This is unusual for me. I feel very quiet. I feel quieted. I’ve stopped making plans, stopped expecting to expect anything. The only thing to look forward to is the baby – a black hole of mystery my mind falls into and keeps falling. I have no expectations for how it will feel. 

This may sound like depression, and I suppose it is, but I honestly wonder how someone with their eyes open could not be dealing with a great pull downward at a time like this. At my first midwife appointment, the midwife asked me if I’d been feeling depressed, and I said, “yes, but I think I’d feel more concerned right now if I wasn’t.” She said, “These are extraordinary times. Almost everyone is reporting feeling this way right now.” It isn’t a good thing, but it does feel like an appropriate and very human response. What do we do when presented with darkness and things we don’t understand? We sit and we wait in the discomfort for the morning. Right now we’re awake in the middle of the night.

We’ve been quarantined for my whole pregnancy. I’ve stayed pretty strictly at home except for walking the dog around the neighborhood every day. I don’t wear a mask when I walk, though I probably should. I see very few people, and the ones I see I move to the other side of the street and wave, giving a wide berth. I’ve always hoped that was sufficient. I read that in California masks are required if you will be within 30 ft. of another person. That feels so generous, but also appropriately cautious. Other than that, only occasional takeout from restaurants, and occasional trips to walk in a different outdoor locale.  Hard to know what little gifts to give myself within the rigidity of staying home all the time, no nights out at restaurants, no thrift shops, no little trips, no swimming pools or beaches. It pains me to see people on social media doing normal summertime things. This is not a normal summer. It’s harmful to act like it is. 

There’s a huge covid-19 spike in my county due to bars and restaurants opening and people being reckless. It’s terrifying – I’m truly worried about what would happen to me and/or the baby if I got sick. Pregnant women’s immune systems are weaker than non-pregnant women’s, and new studies show that we’re about 5x more likely to be admitted to the ICU than others if we get sick.

I made a little pan of baked ziti (actually three pasta shapes mixed together to use up partial packages) last night to stave off some of the despair. It was helpful. Rao’s jarred sauce really is as good as they say it is, and worth the extra $2. 

And the baby is the size of a cucumber! 

My belly is really popping now, with clear growth and change. It’s the only evidence I have that all is well in there, since I’m not yet at the stage where I can feel the baby move, and I haven’t heard the heartbeat since week 12. My last appointment was telehealth, which was great but not extremely reassuring. Not much a midwife can do from across the airwaves. Our first ultrasound is in two weeks at week 20. I look forward to it with fear and trembling. A first glimpse of this baby’s actual body, and I desperately hope they’re alive and growing and okay. 

Back to doing yoga and it feels so good. Needed the break, and needed to return. I’ve been using the Downward Dog Prenatal Yoga app on my ipad which I must say is excellent – I recommend it! There’s a monthly subscription cost, but it feels worth it for such a nice format and level of customization and variety, all the while knowing it’s precisely for this time. The practices are divided by trimester and there are clear modifications to normal poses that make sense, and very good advice. You can also choose each time which “boost” you want – last night I chose pelvic floor prep which packed a wallop! 

I’ve been devouring motherhood books. Not sure how to read about anything else right now. I’m nearly finished with Homing Instincts by Sarah Menkedick, which I think I will buy to send to all pregnant friends from this point forward, it’s been so encouraging to me. Also deeply loving The Blue Jay’s Dance by Louise Erdrich. Reading that one more slowly, in small sips, a little each night after yoga. 

My OCD/anxiety is back with a vengeance, which isn’t surprising in the slightest. There is so much to worry about in pregnancy (avoid all mold!!! / don’t eat various cheeses! / more fiber!) and many of my OCD issues land in the realm of food where there’s extra pressure when you’re pregnant. Trying to cook and eat something relatively nutritious each day without finding some small aspect of it to worry about (was this rice stored in a cool/dry enough space?) takes a lot of my energy. It helps to know that my mental health stuff is real, and to know when to fight it and go all “mind over matter” and when to play it safe and not eat the thing that stresses me out. I feel like I’m getting better at that, at acknowledging what is happening to me when I have flare ups and not letting it trouble me so much. 

In food joy lately, I’ve been reintroducing sugar into my diet and it’s been heavenly. Popsicles and Scandinavian Swimmers gummies from Trader Joe’s have been real highlights. I had an unmistakable Swedish Fish craving that needed tending.

I’m trying to really sink into the idea that I’ll be homebound for this full pregnancy. Given the current numbers and how easily a resurgence of covid happened, so quietly and quickly, I don’t think I could stomach acting differently until there’s a vaccine (which I assume won’t ready until after the baby comes). Knowing this really makes me sad though. Entering month 5 of pregnancy, still so far to go, and all of it at home, in a suspended state of everything changing and so little control. It’s hard. December feels a world away. 

I really miss thrift shopping. I really miss going to coffee shops. I miss the museum, and used book stores, and grocery shopping slowly and easily, sitting in the pew at church, meeting friends at a restaurant, and feeling like the world was out there for me when I needed it. I’ve always loved being at home, but not having the option to leave and do something makes me feel trapped. 

I’m still so tired each day – the first trimester fatigue never really went away, or if it did it came back this week. Yesterday, I had to lay down a number of times, feeling totally bottomed-out. All my work tasks (still developing sewing patterns!) take a long time to do, much longer than they would in the past. I’m a turtle-woman, moving so slowly, crawling back into my shell so often.

It really helps to visualize leaving the house with the baby, taking them somewhere and feeling unafraid. Showing them places I love. How wild will it be when we’re “safe” again? How wonderful will it feel to move through the world with ease? To use a public restroom without a second thought. To walk past someone on a sidewalk unmasked without tensing up. It almost feels impossible now. All of that re-entry for me will likely be accompanied by a baby (or a toddler, who knows how long it will take), and that makes it all the more difficult-to-imagine and exciting. 

I’m already longing for autumn and winter. Summer feels mocking in its brilliance and length. 

I started a new book-length poetry manuscript, figuring out the shape and how it will move. That felt good – it was scary before to not have a clear idea for my next project. I’m realizing that I love process-writing (like process-art), projects that necessarily have a time-bound element. I like knowing what the project is and then letting it take a long time. Not unlike pregnancy, gestation. The only way out is through each day’s quiet small work. You can’t just write the whole thing at once.

Isaiah is going camping with his parents and siblings this weekend, and I decided to stay home. Though it’s something that likely would have been relatively safe, I would have been too on-edge and worried the whole time about Covid and everything to enjoy it. I’ll be alone for a few days for the first time in a long time (even Bobo is leaving me) and I wonder how it will feel. I think I’ll feel lonely. I’ve often felt lonely these days. 

I still have to do my taxes!!! AH! I feel like pregnant women shouldn’t do taxes?

I still haven’t bought a single item for the baby. I’ve sewed quite a little capsule of tiny clothes though! Working on knitting a little newborn sock. I troll the baby/kid section on facebook marketplace daily and the buy nothing groups – haven’t settled on anything yet though. We don’t need very much. I figure I’ll deal with it later on. It feels so difficult to spend money right now, on anything. 

I bought three childbirth books used on the internet. So typical of me to think I can read my way to a smooth birth! 

After the cat incident (Bobo lunging after unseen cat / me falling down minorly), I’ve become hyper-vigilant for all neighborhood cats on our walk. I know their locales, which cars they typically lounge under. I know their prowling spots. I sense them like a hunter. I distract Bobo with crappy treats when we’re near a cat and feel triumphant but tense when we pass by unscathed. I am determined to defeat all cats, they are my arch enemy and I am WINNING. Seriously though, cats are the only thing that makes sweet gentle Bobo go absolutely batshit crazy, and it annoys me that my peaceful daily walk is encumbered with this stupid stressor. 

I heard someone describe the anxiety/ocd combo recently as not being able to let go of the notion that “if I imagine something could happen (the worst thing), then it will” – like terrible magical thinking. Hearing it described like that gave me new language to decode the worn roads my tired mind goes down, to see they’re leading nowhere useful at all. I don’t write about my mental health here to garner sympathy or to seek advice (definitely not), but to be honest. It’s hard in my mind, but it’s my own hard stuff, and I’m always learning how to let it be a part of me but not in charge. 

Made myself some new maternity wrap pants, exactly what I visualized. Sewing still feels like a superpower.