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. 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.
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.