I had my first prenatal visit today--my doctor was very understanding about giving me the progesterone test you recommended, Adrienne. I'll get the results of that as early as tomorrow. It is a weight off my mind to know that if there's a problem, YO! I'll solve it. (This is a heavy topic--I felt I needed to add some Vanilla Ice in there for levity's sake.) I also scheduled my first sonogram for next week, and learned that I may even be able to see my baby's heart beating then! I had NO idea that it begins to beat only 22 days after conception and was amazed by that. There is so much that I don't know yet about this process...it's a little daunting, but totally exciting too.
Dr. I also told me that since I am having strong symptoms (I woke up last night every time I rolled over onto my aching chest) that is a good sign. So I am worrying a little less over that, today.
On the way home, James and I stopped by the organic market and let me tell you, grocery shopping has never been this fun. I am so ravenous that everything looks good to me right now. I must have looked so strange, clapping my hands and crying out so enthusiastically over canned soup (Yes! I NEED THIS! YES!) Everything we ended up buying was so unlike the things I usually eat. We bought steaks and crabcakes (I usually dislike seafood), goat cheese (I do NOT ordinarily do dairy, due to lactose intolerance), yogurt (ditto), and dark chocolate (blechh! What is wrong with me?) I seem to want to eat not sugary or carby stuff, but things with a strong sour/bitter/salty taste. SO weird! What's up with that?
That's the question of the day, along with this one: Why is my mom such a [w]itch? I swear, it's not just hormones that make me at the end of my rope with her. Throughout my childhood, she's always been so emotionally (and sometimes physically) hurtful to me. Now that I am faced with motherhood myself, I am having a difficult time processing that kind of behavior. My baby is currently the size of an apple seed, and there is nothing I would not do for it, if I only could.
Yet when I called Mom today, to vent about a minor spat I'd had with James, she started in on her usual routine: You're a horrible person, Cathy, hard to live with, and you don't deserve someone so fantastic. When James loses his temper with you, you should apologize, because it's probably your fault. I started crying: she accused me of being abusive and manipulative. I finally lost my temper with her, screamed at her, and she hung up. It hurts my heart to fight with anyone, but she won't take my calls when I call to apologize. She lets it ring once, and then sends it to voicemail. So I know she's sitting by the phone and screening. Who's manipulative, again?
I hate that I lost my temper with her, because now she will freeze me out until I repeatedly grovel for forgiveness, agreeing with everything she says about me and releasing her from any culpability in our fight. "Say it, Cathy: you were wrong. And I was right." I don't know why I even bother trying to turn to my mother when things are bad. She has never, never reacted in the way I needed her to react. I guess there is some vestigial part of me that thinks "Mother" = "comfort." But it has never been that way in my family, and it never will be. I wish I could get that through my head. It would save us both a lot of stress, and keep me from getting hurt over and over by her. But I don't know how, and so I keep trying to force this interaction that will not and CANNOT take place. I've only ever tried to please her. But I'm never good enough, smart enough, thin enough, obedient enough. I try so hard to honor her as a parent, but she is always so disappointed in me.
At least she's a pretty good primer for parenting. How to Be a Good Parent: just do the opposite of what Rosemary does!
I know logically that I can't change my mother. It's too late for that. She's been like this for too long, and more than that, she doesn't WANT to change. And yet: my heart cries out for that special closeness, for mother. Today I'm praying for the Lord to help me accept the things I cannot change, and to grant me the strength to make peace with the imperfections in my life.
Welcome to my life! :) I know we've had a shared understanding of this over the years. Over the years I've just stopped caring about just about anything my Mother does or thinks, which is sad. After everything that happened in the first part of the year and after I turned 30, I just decided that I don't need or honestly have to deal with that behavior anymore.
ReplyDeleteOh, and it is amazing seeing your baby's heartbeat - even if you can't hear it until around 12 weeks. It is wonderful and amazing. I'm thrilled your symptoms are so strong. That really is a wonderful sign.
It's a BOY!
ReplyDeleteActually, I have no idea how these cravings work, all I know is that I craved dairy with Joy, and CARBS with Grace, and my friend who has three boys craved the sour and the salty with her pregnancies. So that's my guess!
So sorry about the poor relationship with your mother. I know that I have been so blessed in my parents - I wish everyone could share in that same experience! As you say, at least you have some ideas of what NOT to do with your little one - that's got to count for something, right?
OH! I just had another thought for your strong symptoms and different cravings - maybe it's TWINS!
That's one of the reasons I like to put a lot of my frustrations with my mother on my blog. It's not just to vent, but it's a reminder to me that I don't want to be like her later in life. I'm pretty sure that my mother at least wasn't as terrible when I was a kid. She wasn't the greatest, but her issues have totally worsened over time.
ReplyDeleteElouise: When I read the word twins I thought: Yay! Fun! Wait. NO! POOR! NO! NO! ;) I would be so happy with a little boy, but, strangely, I kind of doubt my ability to...MAKE one. How can I make a boy? That can't possibly happen! It boggles the mind. ;)
ReplyDeleteAdrienne: My mom has always given me juuuuust enough approval and affection to keep me always striving for it, always thinking it could happen, if only I am good and perfect enough. It's very carefully calibrated, I think, to keep me just where she wants me: dancing to her tune. I'm not even sure if she is doing this. But a part of me thinks that a part of her LIKES it when I don't measure up. This has gotten BETTER as I've gotten older (or else I've just stopped turning to her as much) but it still hurts like the devil when I realize it. You're right, though, that venting in a journal makes me feel better.
My spiritual journey is still so new, but I have been reading the Gospel, and a certain verse jumps out at me now:
And call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven.
It helps to know that if my parents on earth are sometimes displeased with me, I have a Father in Heaven who loves me perfectly and passionately and always. He can give me those things that my mom can't.
Amen to that, Cathy. Amen to that. Here's my mom story for the day. My Mom called me while I was driving home from getting my hair cut. By the way, it's short. I hate it and love it in intervals. Anyway, she left a message to call her back because she wanted to talk about something.
ReplyDeleteSo, when I got home I actually called her back. I asked her what she wanted. She said, "Just tell me no if it's not a good time, but can I come see you this weekend?"
I thought about how I wanted to answer her and was honest. "Truthfully, no. It's not a good weekend. Bart's probably going to have to work, we hardly see each other at all these days, and we're both just exhausted."
Her reply? "Well, you're the only person I know who requires people ask if they can come visit, and then you still say no!"
This was to get me to feel bad. I didn't back down. She gave me this whole spiel about how she needs to get out and do something and to just get out of town. I tell her I'm sorry, but it isn't a good time for us to have visitors.
"Well, I guess I'll just sit here by myself all weekend." This is to make me feel horrible. It doesn't work so well anymore.
Again, I told her that it really isn't a good time for company and got off the phone with her. You see, she did this back in June, and Bart and I relented. I told her that she could come, but she had to be prepared to just be at the house with us because we had things we had to do. She ended up badgering me into taking her to the mall, because she needed to go shopping and wanted to buy me a birthday present. By the way, it had been well over a month since my birthday, and I ended up not getting anything because I didn't want to look. She refuses to give gifts unless she sees us. I would rather not have the gift.
Well, I just don't feel up to or want to spend my long weekend that physically, emotionally, and spiritually I so desperately need in order to entertain her. She could honestly care less if we both feel like we're on our last legs.
This whole story with your mom makes me think of the old adage, "You reap what you sow." AND the Harry Chapin song, "Cat's in the Cradle." Seriously, parents that don't cultivate an attitude of respect and affection for their children shouldn't be too terribly surprised when their kids don't really want to hang out with them.
ReplyDeletePS: Your hair! I know just what you mean, Adrienne--I hated mine mostly, but there were times I loved it. I want to see! Post pics soon?
ReplyDeleteOK with the pics.
ReplyDeleteBTW, I hope everyone has a WONDERFUL holiday weekend!
Yes, I want to see hair pics too!
ReplyDeleteAnd I'm also wishing you all an excellent long holiday!