2001-07-10
So I guess I'm officially showing--yesterday a woman at work asked me whether I had anything to tell her. The vast majority of people I work with are guys; I wonder when--if ever--one of them will dare to acknowledge my condition. I guess it's a little delicate, and a little personal. Is it my place to mention it first? I don't know. Some might, but it's not really my style.
My mother used to tell the story of running into an acquaintance and congratulating her on her impending motherhood. The woman, who was on the heavy side, replied icily that she was not expecting. Then a week later she called my mother, having just come from the doctor. It turned out that she was expecting after all.
I miss my mom. There is no one alive who would be as excited and interested in this pregnancy as she would have been.
I wonder if my shriveling attention span and general lack of interest in things beyond attending my basic bodily needs--eating, bathing, getting a little exercise--is some kind of preparation for motherhood. Seems possible. It's odd to be on the precipice of something so dramatically life-changing. Scary, really. I wonder sometimes what I have done, what I was thinking. Par for the course--a cliche, even.
And you know me, I like to be special. That will surely be one of the first things to go when the kid arrives. I can imagine that to some degree it will be a relief.
Lately--over the weekend and last night--I found myself with stretches of uninterrupted time at home. I considered calling a couple of different friends whom I owe phone calls but I just didn't feel like it. I feel kind of lonely and also kind of averse to reaching out. Maybe I don't have the right person to call. Maybe I want to call my mom.
I have an aunt and uncle--the aunt is my mother's sister--who are very family-oriented. They have three grown children and it seems fairly clear that none will be providing grandchildren. I know that this is a source of great pain for them. I have thought that my aunt might take on a special role for this child, and for me, and that we might in turn help in some small way to make up for their lack of grandchildren. My aunt is kind of a chilly woman, though. I called their house once and got the answering machine. I didn't leave a message.
B has a friend who lives in the area. He and his wife, who are around 60, never had children. He has told B that he regrets this. (I'm not sure whether his wife feels the same way.) We are wondering if they might be interested in playing some kind of vaguely grandparental role. I guess we'll see.
It makes me sad, how small and isolated our lives are. I take responsibility for it, I know that it's a function of choices I've made, including choosing B who is as insular as I am if not more so. I'm not sure that I could've done it any differently had I tried.
I guess this is my fate. For the moment, anyway.
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