mousetail: Sleeping mouse with a pink box (bellyapple)
[personal profile] mousetail
When I think of getting wound up, the first thing I imagine is getting agitated, but that is, after all, not the original and direct meaning of the word, is it? Winding up, literally, is something you'd do to a mechanism, like a clock, to make sure it keeps on going for a while...

When I look back at my pregnancy, or even a few years prior, I distinctly remember that feeling of getting wound up - in the original, mechanical, sense. I started out as somebody more interested in adoption than regular childbirth: my desire to adopt is at least a decade older than my daughter. Then, things slowly began to change. First, I met a man who actually made me want his child, not a child with him. Then, we built a house with one room already planned, and partially decorated, as nursery. That was about 1.5 years before I even got pregnant. We carefully considered our finances, sacrificing career prospects and upward mobility for immediate security and German benefits - a most wise, maybe the only wise, decision that I've ever made and ever mourned :) After making sure I was in the job long enough to qualify for the whole package of maternity perks, I quit the pill and we started trying.

While I wasn't desperate to get pregnant, a part of me began to wonder, after 8 month of no success, if anything was wrong. Now I see that time as a part of winding up process: in these 8 month, we started casually buying some gender-neutral baby things, we did a ton of traveling - in case we won't be doing that as much later on (and we don't), we made some parent friends and carefully observed them. My BFF got pregnant and gave birth at that time, and we got some insights into German healthcare, at least the maternity part of it. By the tine I finally got pregnant, I was invested in this parenting thing more than I imagined I could ever be. But of course, through the next 6 months of uneventful and healthy pregnancy, I was getting wound up even more.

I believe that it was all a part of a divine plan, carefully devised to keep me going, as a tic-tac toy, at the time when I would be doomed to fall apart if left alone. I would prefer to believe that it were my moral convictions, my faith, my obedience to God's will that kept me from doing the wrong thing when they told me my daughter's disability is so significant that they cannot even predict if she'd live after birth. But deep inside I know and He knows that the main reason I kept going was the fact that my internal mechanism was wound up so well, it was nowhere near ready to stop. It would shatter to pieces if stopped right then, so I did the only thing I could, the only thing I was prepared to do - carried on.

It kept me going through three baby showers and countless prenatal ultrasounds, gave me energy to decorate the nursery, complete baby-shopping, read parenting books. It pulled me through natural childbirth class and surgical birth afterwards. The pain. The joy. The fear. The horror of NICU, the worry of our first medical appointments, the 1.5-year long intimate relationship with a breast-pump...

Sometimes I wonder if I'm still driven by this mechanism. Sometimes I wonder what will happen if it ever fully unwinds.

Date: 2011-04-03 09:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
What a powerful piece. I've said this before and I'll say this again, you are one strong girl.

Date: 2011-04-07 08:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Thank you... Took me almost a week to be able to log in and reply to you :) I don't think I'm that strong. In that situation, it would have been harder to do the opposite of what I did, for me at least.

Date: 2011-04-03 11:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Have I ever told you how much I admire you? No, really...

Date: 2011-04-07 08:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
The first time I can actually load this enrry to reply!! (rolls eyes)

Thank you... I don't actually think I deserve to be admired... Well, not for that time anyway. I just did what I had to do, because I couldn't do anything else. Serously, I couldn't - and then live with myself...

Date: 2011-04-05 01:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
There are no words that adequately describe the terror when doctors tell you something is wrong. BJ was ready to abort but thought it was too late in her pregnancy. I couldn't imagine not having the baby. He was already my son. I wanted him so much, and still do. I think I was always the only one invested in being a parent.

Date: 2011-04-07 08:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I always admired that about you - how your love for him has been even stronger than what some bio-moms feel, yet it had no hormonal, 'biological' fuel to run on - and still, it was there and it won over everything!

Date: 2011-04-07 08:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I can't explain it but I know I was meant to be his mom. It feels like he has always been mine. I wasn't pregnant with him but I sure felt him and knew him before he was born.

I want to be pregnant and have another baby so bad but I honestly can't imagine loving another child more than Ryder. Differently, yes but not more. He will always be my first born son (which I know is old-fashioned but still has meaning for me.) I never think of him as adopted. He just is my son.


mousetail: Sleeping mouse with a pink box (Default)

June 2013

23 45678

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 21st, 2017 09:05 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios