My family is probably not what you'd consider normal, but we're still close. My parents and sister live in Canada, while my ENTIRE extended family lives in Brazil. We've been in Canada for almost 20 years now, and while we visit the extended family as often as we can, I don't feel particularly close to anyone there, except my maternal grandmother. That's why my relationship with my family here is all that more important.
As L-Day looms (7 more weeks go go, give or take 2 weeks), the importance of family becomes all the more apparent. PK won't be just another addition to my little household. PK will be a daughter, a granddaughter, a great-granddaughter, and a cousin to the little extended family that we've built in Canada. Support from the extended family here will be all the more important.
Moments of crisis really make us realize that we can sometimes take the love and support of our family for granted. That's when you realize that the people you love really do love you - because they put up with your crap, and don't even think twice about it.
I truly hope, as every parent does, to have a good relationship with my child. I'm sure that my initial relationship with her will be more authoritative, as I need to give her the tools to live a successful life. As PK grows older, however, I will need to wean out of that authoritative role, in the hopes of moving into the role of friend, so that we can be equals, sharing ideas and opinions, even if our opinions sometimes clash. Easier said than done, I'm sure, but I can at least strive for it.
Showing posts with label Time to grow up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Time to grow up. Show all posts
Monday, June 23, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Not Feeling the Love
The closer I get to my due date, I can't help but wonder if I should've done things differently. In the beginning, even though I was really excited about the pregnancy, I was also pretty upset by it for making me feel so crappy all the time and for changing my body so much. Should I have done things differently? Should I have complained less or been less crabby about it?
I was so afraid of miscarrying, that I detached myself completely from the pregnancy. The stats are CRAZY. There's a 20-30% chance of miscarrying before a heartbeat is detected. After that, it drops down to 5%. When we told our parents partway into my first trimester that I was pregnant, I told them not to get too excited and to not get too crazy with buying baby things just yet.
I'm probably less detached now, especially after I started feeling PK moving. That put the pregnancy into a whole new perspective for me. It was the "Holy crap! There's a human being growing inside me!" moment of realization. At the same time, I feel as if I don't have that connection to PK that I see others having with their unborn babies. I don't talk to her. I don't rub my belly. I don't usually play music around her - I seriously keep forgetting to do that now that band practice is done for the summer. The hubby does all the talking and belly rubbing. And he likes to sing her some songs that we made up early on when we were dating (they're totally silly but could totally be put into a kiddie album - there's my lost calling!). As for me, I just poke my belly sometimes when she doesn't move for a while to make sure she's okay. When when she starts moving again, sometimes I'll say "Welcome back!" to her, and that's about it.
Will I be this detached when PK is born, or will the gush of unconditional love flow freely into me like a burst dam as soon as she makes her world début? Will I know how to hold her and calm her down if she's feeling distressed, hungry, or poopy? I really can't see myself doing that, but they say that the maternal instinct does kick in.
Hell, I have trouble taking care of myself sometimes. I'm 28 but I still feel like a kid some days. I still call my mom crying if I've got a problem or need advice. I seek parental approval all the time. I feel as if half the things I do revolve around getting an approving nod or comment from my parents. I need them to tell me that they're proud of me, and that I've done well for myself.
And now I'm supposed to do that for my own kid??? I'm just hoping that the Maternal Instinct Switch flicks on when it's supposed to...
I was so afraid of miscarrying, that I detached myself completely from the pregnancy. The stats are CRAZY. There's a 20-30% chance of miscarrying before a heartbeat is detected. After that, it drops down to 5%. When we told our parents partway into my first trimester that I was pregnant, I told them not to get too excited and to not get too crazy with buying baby things just yet.
I'm probably less detached now, especially after I started feeling PK moving. That put the pregnancy into a whole new perspective for me. It was the "Holy crap! There's a human being growing inside me!" moment of realization. At the same time, I feel as if I don't have that connection to PK that I see others having with their unborn babies. I don't talk to her. I don't rub my belly. I don't usually play music around her - I seriously keep forgetting to do that now that band practice is done for the summer. The hubby does all the talking and belly rubbing. And he likes to sing her some songs that we made up early on when we were dating (they're totally silly but could totally be put into a kiddie album - there's my lost calling!). As for me, I just poke my belly sometimes when she doesn't move for a while to make sure she's okay. When when she starts moving again, sometimes I'll say "Welcome back!" to her, and that's about it.
Will I be this detached when PK is born, or will the gush of unconditional love flow freely into me like a burst dam as soon as she makes her world début? Will I know how to hold her and calm her down if she's feeling distressed, hungry, or poopy? I really can't see myself doing that, but they say that the maternal instinct does kick in.
Hell, I have trouble taking care of myself sometimes. I'm 28 but I still feel like a kid some days. I still call my mom crying if I've got a problem or need advice. I seek parental approval all the time. I feel as if half the things I do revolve around getting an approving nod or comment from my parents. I need them to tell me that they're proud of me, and that I've done well for myself.
And now I'm supposed to do that for my own kid??? I'm just hoping that the Maternal Instinct Switch flicks on when it's supposed to...
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Body Image
Last night's topic of discussion for my aqua-fitness class was "Your Changing Pregnant Body". Granted, we've covered this before, and I've talked about it before in a previous post. I will, however, rehash this topic, because there were a few interesting revelations from last night's discussion.
First off, I'm not the only one who is pissed off at the changes in my body. Yay!!! Many girls complained about how they were once and exercised a ton, and then once they got pregnant, they gained all this extra weight and are having a hard time coping. My instructor, who has had 2 kids and is super-skinny even shared with the group that she gained a ton of weight for both pregnancies, in spite of her best efforts to exercise regularly and eat well. Her main take-aways were that:
1. You gain what your body is pre-disposed to gain. Basically, if you happen to be genetically-unfortunate and gain a ton of weight during your pregnancy in spite of trying your darndest to live a healthy lifestyle, you're stuck. Not a pleasant thought, but I guess it's a painful truth.
2. You WILL lose the weight. Easier said than done. You have to want to lose the weight, of course. It's not like it will automagically melt away as soon as you give birth. But I guess her point was that even if you gain a bunch of weight during pregnancy, it IS possible to lose it. As she pointed out, it takes 9 months to make a baby, and 9 months to lose that baby weight. I guess time will tell on that one.
Sure, it's easy for me to sit here and write about this because I haven't gained a ton of weight from my pregnancy. I try really hard to eat well and exercise regularly, but I guess my genes are helping me out too. My mom never gained a ton of weight when she had my sister and me. I guess that helps.
Yet, even though I haven't gained a ton of weight, I STILL have body-image issues. The fact is, I'm NOT as thin as I used to be. I CAN'T fit into my pre-maternity pants without wearing a Bella Band. Even before I started showing, I was having trouble fitting into some of my shirts because my boobs got too big. But yesterday, as each of us talked about how we felt about our bodies during pregnancy, I felt a little guilty. Most of the girls complaining about their weight had said that they were skinny before they got pregnant, and now they were fat. I complained about my weight, lamenting that I could no longer rock climb or play squash, or rollerblade. I complained about the fact that my boobs looked too big. I complained that I couldn't fit into my clothes. But of all the people who complained, I probably came off as being the one with the least to complain about.
Does that mean that I was less justified to complain? Probably. I guess this was an eye-opener of sorts. I work hard to not gain extra weight, but some of the weight I haven't gained was thanks to Nature. I've been spared (knock on wood).
As I reflect upon last night's discussion, I come to the realization that women will never be satisfied with their body image, even if they look perfectly fine. Case in point, I have a friend who is ridiculously ripped. Toned arms and legs, and six-pack abs. She sees a personal trainer regularly, and watches what she eats. And you know what she told me one day when we were clothes-shopping? She said that she couldn't shop anymore because she was having a "bad stomach day". If the girl with the six-pack abs was complaining about her stomach, is there any hope for the rest of us?
Sure there is. But I guess it proves my point - we'll never be satisfied with our bodies because there's always a better body to be had.
First off, I'm not the only one who is pissed off at the changes in my body. Yay!!! Many girls complained about how they were once and exercised a ton, and then once they got pregnant, they gained all this extra weight and are having a hard time coping. My instructor, who has had 2 kids and is super-skinny even shared with the group that she gained a ton of weight for both pregnancies, in spite of her best efforts to exercise regularly and eat well. Her main take-aways were that:
1. You gain what your body is pre-disposed to gain. Basically, if you happen to be genetically-unfortunate and gain a ton of weight during your pregnancy in spite of trying your darndest to live a healthy lifestyle, you're stuck. Not a pleasant thought, but I guess it's a painful truth.
2. You WILL lose the weight. Easier said than done. You have to want to lose the weight, of course. It's not like it will automagically melt away as soon as you give birth. But I guess her point was that even if you gain a bunch of weight during pregnancy, it IS possible to lose it. As she pointed out, it takes 9 months to make a baby, and 9 months to lose that baby weight. I guess time will tell on that one.
Sure, it's easy for me to sit here and write about this because I haven't gained a ton of weight from my pregnancy. I try really hard to eat well and exercise regularly, but I guess my genes are helping me out too. My mom never gained a ton of weight when she had my sister and me. I guess that helps.
Yet, even though I haven't gained a ton of weight, I STILL have body-image issues. The fact is, I'm NOT as thin as I used to be. I CAN'T fit into my pre-maternity pants without wearing a Bella Band. Even before I started showing, I was having trouble fitting into some of my shirts because my boobs got too big. But yesterday, as each of us talked about how we felt about our bodies during pregnancy, I felt a little guilty. Most of the girls complaining about their weight had said that they were skinny before they got pregnant, and now they were fat. I complained about my weight, lamenting that I could no longer rock climb or play squash, or rollerblade. I complained about the fact that my boobs looked too big. I complained that I couldn't fit into my clothes. But of all the people who complained, I probably came off as being the one with the least to complain about.
Does that mean that I was less justified to complain? Probably. I guess this was an eye-opener of sorts. I work hard to not gain extra weight, but some of the weight I haven't gained was thanks to Nature. I've been spared (knock on wood).
As I reflect upon last night's discussion, I come to the realization that women will never be satisfied with their body image, even if they look perfectly fine. Case in point, I have a friend who is ridiculously ripped. Toned arms and legs, and six-pack abs. She sees a personal trainer regularly, and watches what she eats. And you know what she told me one day when we were clothes-shopping? She said that she couldn't shop anymore because she was having a "bad stomach day". If the girl with the six-pack abs was complaining about her stomach, is there any hope for the rest of us?
Sure there is. But I guess it proves my point - we'll never be satisfied with our bodies because there's always a better body to be had.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Potty Mouth
So I've got a bit of a problem. I have a HUGE potty mouth. The funny thing is that in high school, I would not utter a single foul word - not even "crap". And now, anything goes. The S-word, the F-word, and other very colorful variations. I've tried to tone myself down over the years, coming up with colorful euphemisms to replace these filthy swears. For example, "poppycock" and "horse pucky" for the S-word, and "frickers" or "frack" (go Battlestar!) for the F-word. But now, more than ever, my potty mouth is ON FIRE. I can't stop myself, and I think I know why.
In my sub-conscious mind, I see pregnancy in some ways as the end of youthful and care-free behavior. No more deciding to go see a movie on a school night, or changing weekend plans on a whim just because. Parenthood looms, and with it, loom the R-word and the M-word - Responsibility and Maturity - two things that I lack at times. I guess that my swearing freely (way too freely) is a way of clinging on to that youth. Wouldn't Freud be pleased? Or really disturbed, perhaps?
At any rate, it has got to stop. I joke that PK's first word will be the S-word, but no parent ever wants to have that happen. So I guess it's time for me to grow up at least partway, and stop uttering such profanities.
In my sub-conscious mind, I see pregnancy in some ways as the end of youthful and care-free behavior. No more deciding to go see a movie on a school night, or changing weekend plans on a whim just because. Parenthood looms, and with it, loom the R-word and the M-word - Responsibility and Maturity - two things that I lack at times. I guess that my swearing freely (way too freely) is a way of clinging on to that youth. Wouldn't Freud be pleased? Or really disturbed, perhaps?
At any rate, it has got to stop. I joke that PK's first word will be the S-word, but no parent ever wants to have that happen. So I guess it's time for me to grow up at least partway, and stop uttering such profanities.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)