Pregnancy: Week 36; Coronavirus Isolation: Week 5 (mostly whining and also a Pyra update)

My mood matches the weather. There’s a light misty rain falling. The clouds are high, so it’s not too dark; I can still see the mountains in the distance. It’s not a storm battering the earth with thunderous flashes of lightning, not even a drenching downpour to temporarily flood the streets. Just a half-hearted drizzle. Maybe when it’s over, the sun will appear from behind the clouds and the world -as viewed from our apartment windows- will feel brighter and fresher. One can hope.

I had some pretty great days in the past few weeks since I last posted, but this week was a greater struggle to maintain mood, perspective, and sanity. I was more tired in the last few days than I had been. The exhaustion exasperates the thinning patience of the afternoon and feelings of despair … that this situation has no end in sight. It often feels that there is no escape from the unchanging drudgery and constant responsibility as caregiver; that I have nothing to look forward to, no enjoyable activities, no hobbies to pursue without distraction. Even now, while I’m having “me time” in the back bedroom with the music in my headphones turned up, I can hear Pyra crying. It will only be for a moment … but I can’t completely tune out and escape, and when I try (like right now) I frequently end up feeling guilty. But. The drizzle has now ended and the clouds are a lighter grey- I am feeling better too. A little caffeine, a little quiet time, a little writing … these things do often help lift me out of poor spirits.

Today is the 36-week anniversary of Little Boy’s gestation. If the pregnancy continues without complications, we should see the tiny nameless man for the first time in 2-6 weeks. I can’t believe we’re already so close to his arrival. I can’t believe that I will be even more tired than I am now for at least the first week or so after his birth. I can’t believe these unchanging days will continue on and on indefinitely and that wandering outdoors with my babies without fear of illness is in some distant, almost unimaginable future. I can’t believe Tiny Little Man is unlikely to meet other humans (not to mention my family back in USA) for months after his arrival and that Pyra will continue to live without social interaction for so long.

I know I should just be grateful for our health, for all of our privileges and good fortune … but hormones and brain chemicals are tough competitors and they’re continually nudging negative perspective and self-pity to the surface of my turbulent sea of emotions. I try to push them down and argue them out of existence, but they persist. It is pregnancy hormones? Is it the dreary weather? Is it lack of sleep? Is it an unbalanced lifestyle? The uncertainty of our living situation? I suppose it’s a terrific mash-up of all of those options, plus others that I’ve currently forgotten or haven’t even yet considered.

There’s Pyra crying again. I’ll have to go relieve my guilt soon. Shower her with kisses … and hot water. Rod went out to the grocery stores twice this week after several weeks avoiding them, and yesterday he brought back a little plastic baby tub for Pyra (we don’t have a bathtub in this apartment, just showers). I plan to let her play in her tub for a long time while the hot shower washes away my negativity and the fun new water activity eats up some of the afternoon.

It’s so terrible of me to write during these moments of heightened distress. It’s an ugly distortion of my general existence and state of mind. Yet, that’s generally when my writing bug bites … not in the midst of satisfaction and joyful moments, but when the mood drops and yearns for some release, a means of expression that might help dissipate the unwanted feelings.

Well, I’ve not really provided much of any update except for my negative feelings. It feels like there’s nothing much to report, but I know I should make an effort. Let’s see. The washing machine won’t work and the internet is often slow or not functioning. Hm. No, that’s not a very good start. Let me try again.

I received some sourdough starter from my favorite bakery and have been semi-diligently feeding it. I’m still waiting for adequate energy to coincide with inspiration and timing to attempt my first baking with it. Meanwhile, I’m developing a nice amount of discard to make crepes with one of these days.

The midwife came for a week 35 checkup and everything seems to be well with Little Boy and me. Next week I’m supposed to get an ultrasound and blood and urine tests as we approach “full term.” I have no idea where or how that will transpire. I have left the apartment building only once in the last 5 weeks, and that was for approximately 30-40 mins and within a couple of blocks. I don’t know how far I’ll need to go, how long I’ll be out, nor if I can accomplish the tasks with one outing. I don’t want to unnecessarily increase the risk of getting corona in the last weeks of pregnancy, so I will be avoiding any transportation and walking my big belly wherever I need to go. I’ll report back when it’s all accomplished.

Pyra is a bright light in our lives and her development is entertaining and wondrous to experience. We are so lucky to have so much time with her! She is a cheery and active 19-month-old girl. Some of her favorite activities are: being naked; climbing, jumping and tumbling on the couch; playing with water; picking out new pants and socks to wear; watching and trying to pick up bugs; playing any sort of chase or rough-housing with mom and dad.

Py’s spoken vocabulary is still surprisingly limited, and hilariously pronounced, but her comprehension is phenomenal. Her physical abilities definitely outshine her verbal skills at this point. Pyra has great balance and strength and loves using her adorable body in physical play. She climbs in and out of her highchair on her own, climbs up onto a twin bed for diaper changes (with the motivation of almond and raisins for a treat), pushes a chair around the house to facilitate her reaching things she not supposed to or watch mom and dad in the kitchen. She isn’t overly clingy, but she loves snuggles and kisses (generally with a wide-open mouth involving teeth and tongue) and to be near mom and dad. Pyra enjoys music, watching family videos, FaceTiming with her grandparents, Auntie and cousins (in fact she often pats my computer and says “Papa, Papa, Papa” to request a FT call), and exercising with mom and dad- although she’ll often randomly bust out some “pushups” throughout the day, on her own too.

We appreciate her appetite and acceptance of a wide-range of foods. Some of her favorite foods include: peas, almonds, raisins/grapes, oatmeal, avocado, grenadilla fruit, banana, papaya, mango (pretty much all fruits), quinoa, noodles, sourdough bread, mushrooms, veggie soups, smoothies …. really, she likes so many things, it’s hard to make a favorites list. She even likes to take little tastes of ají (a local take on hot sauce). She’s getting really good at feeding herself with a spoon or fork. I even let her go at a bowl of yogurt and meusli with banana, and a surprising majority made it into her mouth.

Ok, well, my mood has lifted with the clouds. While the sun might not have actually appeared, it’s brighter both outside and inside this apartment and I’m ready to re-join my family. Time for Pyra to try out that new bath tub and for me to wash away the last of my gloominess.

I wish I had made this update during a cheerier mood … I feel like I misrepresent my overall disposition and that it’s not exactly uplifting to read my whiney rants. I don’t want to leave people with negativity. Oh well. This is where I am today, at this point in time. I plan to post some photos of Miss P to help lighten the mood. I wish the best to everyone out there, and hope that you’re managing your current situation with more grace, generosity, and patience than I have been. By admitting my less-than-satisfying recent perspective and behavior, I intend to make improvements. This is kind of like a pity-party that ends in a pep-talk. It’s somewhat embarrassing to reveal and share with others, but also an effective way to get my act together. To show myself just how low I’ve stooped and motivate myself to make changes.

All of a sudden I remember the much weightier trials that many loved ones are facing during these same times. Death. Illness. True tragedies. And I feel silly and petty for my behavior, mood, and perspective. I should feel silly and petty when I compare my “trials” with the real adversity and sorrow that others are facing. Why can it be so hard to push the “reset perspective” button, sometimes? Ugh. Now I feel ashamed of my feelings … not enough to push me lower down … enough to lift my chin a bit self-consciously. To be grateful again. Grateful for all of my good fortunate in a slightly inconvenient and uncertain time.

Anyway. That’s it for now. Rant over. Much love to everyone out there dealing with their own personal demons, with the coronavirus, with whatever life is flinging at them right now.

Where are we now?

I just poured cold water into Nixin’s breakfast bowl. Nixin watched me, confused and a little amused, as my water bottle stood patiently nearby. That’s why we’re not going to Turtle Town this morning. 

More accurately, we’re not going because Pyra is teething and she and I didn’t get enough restful sleep last night. I quickly gave up and went back to bed after trying to persuade Rod to take Nixin to the beach without us. 

This lifestyle is an interesting mix of vacation and … “life” that I feel we  haven’t yet sorted out. We’re still finding our footing and figuring things out as we go. I feel a bit like we’re moving around in limbo. Maybe it’s because I’m so used to the idea of venturing out from a permanent residence: you leave your home and stuff behind for a certain period and then return and resume where you left off. Only we just left, we didn’t leave off. We have no home to return to (although I admit that the generosity of my parents to share their home with us is very near the feeling of having our own home). 

I was frustrated that Rod wouldn’t take Nixin to the beach without me, because we’re only on Maui a couple more days, and our time with Nixin is fleeting. Who knows when she’ll next have the chance to swim with sea turtles? More importantly, when will he have the chance to share the experience of swimming with sea turtles with his daughter? Well, maybe it will be tomorrow, or maybe it will be never. Who knows? 

On vacations you generally are more motivated to get out and experience things because your time away from “real life” is limited. But what if you’re living a semi-permanent vacation? Is our motivation declining because we don’t have a deadline to return to “real life?” Or is today just an off day because we’re all a little under the weather? I’m sitting on the lanai (pretty sure that’s what they call a deck here?) soaking in some gentle morning sun, listening to the coos and chirps of island birds, with the sea shimmering a deep blue just a few hundred feet away. But I’m letting my daughter sit in the air-conditioned apartment and watch “Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego.” 

I’m going to have to do better to take these things in stride, because this IS our life. There will be down days, and there will likely be many more than I imagined. We’re not out on a quick 2-week trip, we’re just “out.” There will be indoor tv days even in paradise. But I’m grappling with this, because as much as I appreciate relaxed, having down time, and not over-planning, I feel the tug of mortality and uncertainty in my periphery- the uncertainty of how long this lifestyle will last. There are other variables, out of our control, that we have to contend with and incorporate into the equation. 

We don’t get to make all of the decisions for Nixin’s experience and future on our own. There have already been some shadows of roadblocks coming to light that we’ll have to navigate. And it may potentially lead to a change in course. 

But I ramble in my cocoon of sleepy thoughts. I guess I just want to make sure I appreciate this life right now, as we live it. And to really live it, even as it stretches out in front of us indefinitely. I don’t know if we’re at the beginning of long and durable venture, or if this beginning butts up against the unexpected ending. 

I may have experienced a sleepless night with a teething baby, and awoke to feel unrested and grumpy, but the Maui morning sun has soaked into my bones as I sat writing this, removing the sense of frustration and anxiety that permeated my foggy thoughts. The blue water swept those unwanted feelings out to sea. The chorus of birds have brightened my outlook and helped to adjust my perspective. 

We can never know exactly where we sit on our journey through life. But that’s ok, especially if we recognize and appreciate the inevitable uncertainty as opportunity. 

Mahalo Maui. 

What’s on your “someday” list?

Your life will end.

Sooner or later.

As macabre as this sounds, it’s true. Each day is a gift of existence and you get to choose how to live. Every morning when you awake is not “just another day.” It is THE day. It is the only day you are certain to wake up to. I know we shouldn’t necessarily live each day as if it’s our last and that living that way wouldn’t be sustainable. But I think that generally, we maintain a dangerous perspective of our mortality and how one ought to experience life. We lean too hard on an expectation of a long and healthy life, and the concept of working hard to retire comfortably is ingrained from childhood. For some, this will work well and they will reach their “golden years” feeling fulfilled. For many, we will look back and say … “What the heck was I thinking?!”

Isn’t it scary to think that “someday” may never come for all those things that you really want to do, but don’t make time for? It might be travel, starting a business, eating out at a ridiculously pricey restaurant that serves 16 courses, skydiving, taking an art class, going to the spa, taking a trip to see grandparents, hiking that one really impressive mountain you’ve been eyeing for years or checking out that one trail you keep hearing about. Why is it that we postpone those things that will make us smile and fill our hearts with joy? Why do we risk that “someday” may never arrive?

I play a game with myself to help maintain my perspective. I ask myself if something will matter to me a week from now, a year from now, 10 years from now, or even on my death-bed. This helps me assign value to various experiences, to shake off an annoying or frustrating interactions, and to make decisions that feel difficult.

When Rodney and I were trying to figure out what to do with our lives, we asked ourselves, “What are we likely to regret most when we’re elderly?” And what we came up with: we are likely to regret that we didn’t travel more. Isn’t that a fairly common one for folks? I’m guessing it is, and I’m guessing that you may have had similar thoughts about wanting to get out into the world more. We use all kinds of excuses to justify why we don’t travel: money, kids, job, responsibilities. But the thing is, if you want it enough, you can make it happen.  You just have to want it enough to work for it. You start putting money aside, you start budgeting and you stop making superfluous purchases. You read about how other families with kids travel. You realize that the world will roll along without you if you duck out for a few weeks and take that trip you’ve always wanted to. You CAN do it. If you really want to.

The trick is to make a concrete plan. Make the decision. Really, that is the hardest part. In fact, even if you decide NOT to do whatever it is, and take it off your “someday” list altogether, I bet you will feel lighter and more satisfaction from that decision alone. If instead, you scratch the item from your “someday” list and move it to a concrete plan, but think that you are likely to cave in and back out on it, build in accountability. Make it public. Use an anticharity. You know your habits and what makes you tick. What will you need to do to make sure you follow through?

What is on your “someday” list? Is there something hanging out there that really belongs on your “do it now” list? What are the excuses you’re using to push it out until “someday?” When you’re wrinkled and hairless (should you be so fortunate), will you be looking back with regrets and wishing you had done more when your body was capable, or will you feel fulfilled and satisfied with the life you chose to live?

I recently heard this Japanese proverb that stuck with me:

Fall seven times, get up eight.

We’re only human. But we can try. And try again. And try again. Don’t let your old-person-self down.