So. My baby is 3 months old now. There’s a lot of things that I felt and thought immediately after the birth of my daughter. I wasn’t sure how to share those feelings though or even if I should. The last thing I needed at that point in time was to be judged. Then again, I might have gotten support from an unlikely source if I had just reached out for it. Either way it’s a moot point because my baby girl turned 3 months old on the 12th.
My little puddin’ showed up fashionably late, almost 5 hours after her due date. 😉 She weighed 9 pounds 3 ounces and she nurses magnificently. Her labor was relatively easy but I don’t know if that’s because it was actually easy or because I didn’t go in until the very end so no one was able to tell me how hard it was. Either way the back labor was most certainly worse than the contractions.
The past 3 months haven’t been as…..pleasant as I’d always dreamed them to be. This comes from a mix of actual reality, stepparenting shenanigans and depression dalliances. But either way you slice it, we made it, we’re here and we’re just making it work.
She cracks me the hell up. Seriously my baby is the funniest person I know. My husband comes home soon and I’m going to have to share her with him. I should be excited about that but honestly I’m not quite ready for that. I like holding all the cards and making all of the decisions. (Not that I’m not keeping him in mind but…he’s not actually here to voice a disagreement if he were to have one.)
So I’m in the 34th week right now. It’s third trimester, it’s the end of the whole ordeal, it’s the home stretch. I went and toured the OB floor today with my mom and my husband. My birth plan needs some tweaking as far as wording goes but it’s done. The diaper bag came in the mail today. Shit’s really really. I’m heavy and full and ready to meet her. Of course I want her to come when she’s ready but I’m impatient.
So. Yeah. That’s how I feel. This is all sorts of fucked up and not for me and I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into. I dunno. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed. That’s probably a large part of it.
…and nothing is getting done. No one seems concerned and moving is hard for me so my abilities are limited; especially when considering everything else I have to do because my mom is still out of commission.
So sometimes I don’t ask the questions I want the answers to. Which is horrible of me because how can I get fulfillment if I don’t ask? How will I know? I’ll just be left wondering forever. No bueno.
So I was talking to a friend the other day and both her kids are interracial. I brought up the fact that I wasn’t sure about buying Bambina outfits with monkeys or watermelon slices on them. She gave me that look (you know the one you give your friends when they’re being nuts) and said put my kid in whatever. It made me examine not only why I felt like that but why I chose to share that with her in particular because I know that sounds crazy which is why up until this point I’d only shared this with my momma. I don’t know anything about being interracial. I know my relationship with my husband has been challenged because we’re interracial and I know my baby is likely to be challenged in some situations but I don’t know what it’s like. I just know it’s very likely coming. And I realized that’s what was bothering me. I love her SO much already. Like…little Bambina is SO important to me. I don’t want her feeling hurt ever. I don’t want her to ever be disappointed. (I know this is unreasonable.) I just want to make sure I have the tools to help her be safe and happy.
I got a video conference with Mr. G yesterday. I had to drive to base (30 minutes in rainy oh my fuck I can’t drive traffic) and then it was only 15 minutes.
It was a great 15 minutes. It was bittersweet as well.
I dunno why this is harder this time around. But it is.
So. We all know deployments are about waiting. Waiting for them to get home, waiting to hear from them, waiting for some news after a major event in the news. All sorts of waiting.
But there’s another kind they don’t tell you about. Now normally Mr. G is right up my ass. And if he’s not, he’s a phone call, Xbox message or text away. But he’s deployed so now it’s email. That he may or may not get. That he might not have the time to respond to. When you’re a girl like me who has most of her friends online….that’s a problem.
I’m excited to be pregnant. So stoked. When something happens I want to tweet, Facebook, Instagram. But I can’t do that. Because my ass is grass if social media finds out something about my baby before I do. So I’m learning to wait.
If there was ever a master exercise in patience this would be it. So much wit held in. And then I thought…how did society get to this point? Where it’s not the event that matters but how quickly you share it?