Four Weddings and a Funeral has been on a lot recently and I have had flashbacks to high school swooning over Hugh Grant. For the life of me, I cannot understand what I saw in him back then, with those silly glasses and that scrawny little frame of his. I need meat on my man, and he was positively anorexic in that movie. Still, he was so … earnest. Anyway, one of my favorite lines in the movie was uttered by Gareth (the gargantuan gay man who ended up being the subject of the lone funeral). He opined that the only reason people got married was to have something to talk about, after they had run out of all other topics of conversation.
Sometimes, I feel that the opposite is true for Mr. X and I when it comes to this pregnancy. We hardly mention it except in terms of, “if things are still looking good, we can go do ____” or “how is your nausea today?”. I have absolutely no problem not mentioning it in polite conversation or even not thinking about it for long stretches of time. Why? A big fat shout out to those of you who guessed Self-Preservation! As I have detailed ad nauseum (no pun intended) here, I just can’t get too invested yet because there is still that chance, however small, that it can all end.
I was confronted with this problem today when I got an email from my dad. It was so wonderfully supportive, letting me that he was thinking of us all during this time and that he specifically was sending good thoughts to the baby. I wanted to think that he was referring to the dog or one of the kitties, but I knew this wasn’t the case when he specifically mentioned them later. I wanted to blur out the word – I can’t bear to make that connection yet and it pained me to even have to think about it. There is no baby yet for me. There is a pregnancy and this is what has allowed me to stay sane while navigating these treacherous waters where we sank twice before. I’ve only been able to string the words, “I” “am” and “pregnant” into a sentence twice since we found out. Obviously, I am not ready to make the leap to the ‘b’ word.
This of course, takes a huge topic of conversation out of circulation, but that is fine with me. I know that talking about it, even remotely with optimism would cause little suspicious synapses to start firing in the old noggin causing more anxiety than a trip to the bathroom. Instead we talk about our upcoming vacation to the northeast, the dreadful two days we spent without air conditioning before the system was fixed, work and weekend plans. Or, we just sit in a companionable silence. And that is just fine with me.
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There is one topic that we have been discussing that is somewhat related – my depression. It has gotten better, mainly because I finally admitted to myself why I was in such a funk. I had apparently made the executive decision not to allow myself to look forward to anything lest I suffer the pain of disappointment, during this time when disappointment can be at its peak. I mentioned this to Mr. X and gently asked if it was okay for me to look forward to some things (like a weekend or a good book) and he wholeheartedly agreed. Once I made that connection, I was able to begin to see some light. I haven’t completely climbed out of the trench, but I’m slowly getting there.