22 weeks and 22 years - Happy anniversary to my best half!

The other night I forced Nate to watch Pioneer Quest, a reality/documentary show about two couples living the 1870’s settler life in Manitoba, Canada in the year 2000 (yes, it’s old). I asked him if he thought we would’ve lasted a full 365 days out there on the prairie (pre-pregnancy, of course). You know – doing stuff like plowing fields, planting crops, taking care of farm animals, building our own log cabin, and surviving the winter with just a few pairs of woolen underwear. I’m sure you know what his answer was.

Nate: You can’t even use a public bathroom.

Me: That’s not true! I shat in a plastic bucket toilet in the desert of Morocco.

Nate: You cried the whole time….and then you made me dump it.

Me: I have a phobia!

Ok, so maybe I wouldn’t make the best pioneer partner. Heck, I don’t even think I make the best partner living a life out here in sunny SoCal these days, but add that to the list of things I’m working on.

During the show, Nate’s thoughts turned to the growing mountain of mail piled up in various areas of the house.  Inspired by my current condition of basically doing nothing other than sitting around watching a lot of crap TV, he proceeded to pick it all up and deposit it in my lap.

Me: You want me to do WHAT with this, exactly?

Nate: Separate into piles based on the month.

Me: Can’t you see I’m busy growing our human? I told you I never wanted a mailbox in the first place.

Nate: You're crazy. Everybody has a mailbox. It’s just sticking them into piles. You don’t even have to get up. You don’t even have to really move. Stop being lazy, dude.

Cue shock, awe, and righteous indignation!

It’s easy to blame my bad behavior on pregnancy hormones and a never ending sense of anxiety. These days I’ll cry and rage and laugh at the weirdest things, sometimes doing all three at once. Nate tends to get the brunt of it. I’d say 95% of this can be attributed to the hormones. The rest of it is probably due to the fact that I have an annoying tendency to be selfish and lazy.

And something else, because there is always something else floating around in the poop soup that is my brain….

He’s right, of course. It wouldn’t take much effort at all to deal with the stupid mail. Nate has been wonderful during this whole experience. He does the laundry, tidies up the house, and does all of the grocery shopping, even if I give him a list of four different places to hit. He gets up in the middle of the night when I suddenly feel the need for some string cheese or emergency GasX. He’s the best half of this team and I am so fortunate to have him by my side.

So what is that “something else”?  It's anger. No, not at him of course…but at myself. I act out in fear. Fear in that I not only failed Ligaya, but him. That because of my body, I couldn’t bring our daughter into the world safe and sound. I’m ashamed of what I couldn’t do, and I’m scared it will happen again. Sometimes I look at him and wonder, "How can this guy not hate me?" I don’t quite understand it.  

I’ve talked to him about this many times, and never once has he made me feel that I’m to blame for what happened. He holds no resentment, always pointing out that we are a team and that he is so thankful and so proud of me.

Cue guilt, tears, and a shaken raised fist at pelvic rest!

I may not be able to exert much physical effort these days, but there are things I can do from a reclined position: I can definitely sort through the mail. I can fold the clothes that he’s been washing, and straighten up my little corner by the window so that he doesn’t have to worry about that stuff when he gets home from work. 

After all, I may be a mom and I may be growing a human inside of me, but I am also one half of a team. I’m his best friend and wife. He’s doing his best as he always does, so I should too – in all areas of my life.  He is SO excited to meet our girl, and I am learning not to hate myself for what I couldn’t control.

Today marks a year since our wedding. It’s gone so fast (why can’t pregnancy feel that way?!?). One of my favorite memories of that planning period is when we won a free photo shoot for the ceremony and reception based on an essay I wrote. Before being selected as the winners, we were interviewed by the photographers (Bowtie & Bloom). They asked how we still managed to be happy after being together since 1994. My now-husband said that in the awesome adventure book of our life together, it still felt like chapter one – 21 - now 22 years later.

Cue love.

Happy anniversary to the man who never reads what I write!

 And hello to 22 weeks, baby girl.