August 22, 2007

• The Blessed Amnesia

  Since the time my poor young, tender ears were first inflicted with the horror stories of birth that all women feel compelled to share with each other at every available opportunity there was always the balancing consolation to go with the promise of pain beyond your wildest imagination that something akin to amnesia would set in and therefore you would not only be ready to do the whole miserable process all over again but you would actually WANT to.  Was not an uncommon occurrence to see several older women nod their heads to each other ruefully and reference something long the lines of “Oh, yes, that was how we got Jack/Jill/child number 2-3-4-5-6-7-8.” 

  After the promised misery I was oh so eagery waiting for this mental magic to happen.  Six weeks went by.  I had a nightmare about being in labor again.  8 Weeks go by.  I nearly go into a panic attack at the very thought that my body might possible be able to conceive again.  Somewhere around weeks 10 or 12 (The reason I can’t remember specifically which is because the OTHER promised mental magic, that of losing half your brain when you have a baby did of course happen right on schedule) I gave up hope of ever being able to successfully move past my absolute terror that was rapidly turning into a serious phobia of pregnancy/labor and delivery.   I resigned myself to having to just “deal with it” when I got pregnant again.

  With nary a warning the blessed amnesia hit just this week.  I thought it might be something gradual, a steady progression from being able to remember every little miserable detail to not being able to remember a few and then one day the whole thing fading away into some hazy, not so pleasant experience that is remembered only by your child’s birthday.   This was nothing like that though.  I was in the shower of all places.  Being a little sleep deprived these days and missing half my brain I’m prone to wondering thoughts whenever given half a chance.  Standing there I started thinking about different things which led to Noelle.  Well, I started thinking about her because I was washing out the spit up she had with such careful aim regurgitated onto my hair.  Thinking about her led to thinking about her little features which led to wondering what our other future kids features might look like which lead to thinking about more pregnancies etc and for the first time, to my amazement I couldn’t remember the pain, the discomfort with such frightening clarity.  But I barely had enough time to process that before another shocking thought hit me out of the blue… “I can’t wait to have another one.”  At this point my multiple personalities came out of hiding as they tend to do when anything weird happens.

  Me1: <In shock>   “You WHAAAAT???”
  Me2:  <Serenely> “I can’t wait to have another little tiny, wonderful baby.  Maybe the next one will look like me.”
  Me1: “Are you OUT OF YOUR MIND???   You just had a baby, you are still overweight and out of shape from that one, and you are having a hard enough time just barely functioning with her and you want ANOTHER ONE?”
  Me2:  “I’m actually in my mind, I think, in someones mind, anyway.  Yes. I want another one.  Soon.  Two in diapers aren’t so bad, right?”
  Me1: “Don’t you remember the misery?  The 6 months from hell, the 2 and a half days of torture?”
  Me 2: “Uuuuhm.  No, not really.  I mean, yes I know it was bad, but really in the end it’s been worth it all and besides you get such a precious little commodity out of the deal.”
  Me3: “Would you two shut up so that I can finish this shower and go nurse the baby??  Am I the ONLY one that does any work around here?”

  Anyway.  All my personalities are not totally on board yet but maybe in a few months they will be.  At least I’m not hyperventilating at the thought of getting pregnant again anymore. 

  • 5:26 pm
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