bouts with doubt ha ha that rhymes I'm still pregnant and I can't call anybody without them jumping into a high state of alert, especially my parents, who have caller I.D. My dad answers the phone, every time, "are you alright?" like I'm going to be laying on the floor bleeding while the baby crawls out of my womb and, still attached by the umbilical cord, picks up a knife and stabs me to death. I'm finally on maternity leave, though, which is giving me WAAAY too much time to think. What the hell am I doing? Look at the world we live in. I'm going to make another creature live out a life here? What if she turns out like me? It's a good thing I love my baby immensely, or these little bouts with doubt (ha ha that rhymes) would drive me insane. I also have moments where I dread the birth. The dread feels kinda like a cross between the dread I used to feel before singing a solo in front of a large audience, and that which I used to feel before phys. ed. when they would make us run a mile. Maybe not quite as bad as the dread people might feel on their way to a public execution, thinking not only "I'm going to die!" but also "What if I shit my pants in front of all those people?" but probably close. I guess this is just getting really heavy, and the waiting is a little bit insane. Any day now I'm going to go through a really intese experience and then my life is going to be totally different. And will it happen before this tube of toothpaste runs out? Who knows. |