wind like waves

This morning, Xander and I were sitting in the waiting room of his doctor’s office, reading magazines and the books that we both brought (me = Anais Nin’s Diary, X = Diary of a Wimpy Kid). I remembered being pregnant with him, waiting to see my OB, thumbing through parenting magazines and feeling so green and pliable and new. I didn’t read much about pregnancy online, or books about what to expect while I was expecting. Back then I still read as many novels, memoirs, and as many creative nonfiction books I could pull off of the library shelves. I figured my body would tell me if something didn’t feel right, that Dr. Shine would slam closed my chart briskly, and calmly let me know if there was something of concern that she had to take a look at. I saved my questions for her, not for Google. One piece of advice that she had given me quite sternly was to stay away from the internet and from books on pregnancy. Trust your instincts, she’d say. Don’t worry so much about what can go wrong…and stay calm. ย She handed me a list of foods and substances to limit, and told me to call her with any questions. I listened, and stayed pretty mellow throughout (except for when I started to gain a lot of weight, but that’s a story for another day).

If I were to become pregnant now, I’m sure that wouldn’t be the case. My fingers would probably itch with any sporadic pulse or twitch or hum in my stomach. I’d want to know now.ย 

**

The sky is growing dark. I’m writing this outside on the patio. The dog is on the hill sniffing the air as pear petals are covering her head, and the dogwoods, in full bloom, are swaying wildly. Should go in soon.

Xander is feeling better now, though. Despite his red eyes, now more pink than red from the antibiotic drops he was prescribed, he’s well enough to throw his boxers onto the ceiling fan in his room, and dance naked below the turning blades. He’s talking to me through the screen now, telling me something about Ron Weasley. The dog, still enjoying the wind, is eating new blades of grass. It’s like a giant salad out here.

Thunder. Blooming azaleas. Wind like waves. I love sick days.

Advertisements

10 thoughts on “wind like waves

  1. As a kid I was always glad to stay home because I was sick and, even more so, for snow. Love the line above about it being like a giant green salad outside–perfect description. Sounds like Xander is feeling okay given the boxers-ceiling fan incident you described. How funny!
    Hugs,
    Kathy

  2. After a few anxious NP visits during my pregnancy, my NP issued an edict that I mustn’t, under any circumstances, look online for information. If I felt I had to, it should be one site run by professionals. She recommended the Mayo Clinic, which was a wonderful choice.

    Having learned nothing from the experience, I spent hours on breastfeeding forums trying to get Li’l D breastfeeding in his first several weeks. When I finally found a good lactation consultant, she mirrored my NP’s words: DO NOT DO THAT! Life was a lot calmer after I backed away.

    On another note–sick days of the kind you describe? Lovely indeed!

  3. There are just too many varying opinions, anecdotes, and various crazy people online when it comes to babies, children, and pregnancy. It’s a friggin’ jungle out there!!

  4. I just wanted to say that I can’t thank you enough for this beautiful post. I am a worrywart, with a library science degree no less, and about 2 months along with my first pregnancy. I always felt that staying away from message boards and pregnancy websites might be the best course for me while pregnant, and now I not only find this to be true but I also do better staying from the one book I carefully chose. Just asking my doctor what to do, what not to do, and when to call has been the best course of action for me, but I hardly know of anyone who’s done this and was searching Google specifically for words like yours. It’s helping me trust my instincts and feel much better about doing so!

  5. Congratulations on your pregnancy!

    And thank YOU so much for your kind words about my words. I know some women and men have found comfort in numbers online, but to me it always seemed like such a thin line to cross.

    A library science degree!! A girl after my own heart. ๐Ÿ™‚

  6. “It’s like a giant salad out there” — great line!

    As for the internet, when my daughter Sophie was diagnosed with her terrible seizure disorder in 1995, we didn’t even have a computer to speak of, and I can honestly say those were dark days of isolation. While I don’t exactly ENVY those in the same predicament today, I am certain that they don’t have nearly the same terrifying feelings as those of us who experienced the same thing more than fifteen years ago!

  7. I actually thought of you when I wrote this…the other side of the coin is the level of support in situations like yours, the connections with mothers and families who are feeling lost. I love the internet for that…

  8. Well, the next time I have to be home with Maycee sick and I’m stressing to the gills, I need to remember to visit this post. ๐Ÿ™‚ Lovely! It’s taken me time to trust my instincts when it comes to parenting. The first two years of Maycee’s life I consulted a doctor, the Internet, magazines, and the gammit for the smallest of issues-it was indeed maddening and drove my ex-husband bonkers. Where it helped, as you pointed out, was in forums of support as in Maycee having colic, temper tantrums, night terrors…that most of my friends’ children didn’t experience. Today, 8 years in, I can safely say I’m more in tune with instinct. ๐Ÿ™‚

  9. Oh, goodness…the temper tantrums! I had forgotten about those. I did plenty of consulting of books and the internet once he was around 6 weeks old, but before that I stayed away (except for a small baby care book the hospital gave me…which was wonderful).

"... all my lovers were there with me, all my past and futures."

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s