(no subject)

[rivka]

So, on Christmas afternoon we flew to Memphis to spend the long weekend with Michael's father. That had always been in the plan. Somehow what didn't make it into my mental picture of the plan was that we would have essentially zero time on Christmas to do anything other than family presents and then making the trip happen. Like, for example, answering people's e-mails, or warning anyone that we were going to be away and out of contact, or any of those kinds of things. So: sorry that we dropped off the face of the earth like that.

It was a pretty hard visit. Michael's stepmother was in the hospital when we arrived, with diverticulitis, and wasn't released until Saturday. Michael's father isn't doing very well either, although I suppose he's doing better than one might expect given all that happened last August, when we thought Michael was potentially rushing to a deathbed. He's very weak and tired. His blood count keeps dropping inexplicably; he had a transfusion of two units of blood the week before Christmas, and told us that was the only thing keeping him on his feet.

I cooked some monster Southern-style breakfasts and tried, mostly fruitlessly, to keep Michael's father (and his stepmother, when she got home) from exerting themselves on household responsibilities. I tried to create and protect opportunities for Michael and his dad to be together. Alex was much more open and friendly with her Poppy than she has been before, which was nice to see, and I did what I could to promote that. I did a lot of playing with Alex's Christmas toys. I did get a fair amount of rest, at least. Michael's father and stepfather typically went to bed at the same time as Alex, so our evenings were very quiet and relaxed.

I tried to make more allowances than usual for Michael's stepmother, because she was ill and tired and in pain. But really she just seemed like her typically unpleasant self. For the record, in case anyone around here is unclear: it is not okay to predict that a pregnant woman is about to go into labor prematurely. It is even less okay to harp on it to the extent that it begins to prey on the pregnant woman's hormonally-fragile peace of mind even though she knows that she shouldn't pay any attention to you. And when you know that the pregnant woman's last pregnancy ended in disaster? It is really absolutely even less okay, if that's possible.

I'm just saying.

So we're home, later than expected because of some baggage snarls at the airport. The house is a disaster area because we didn't have time to pick up before we left. Alex didn't get to bed until almost 11 - who knows when she'll be up tomorrow. And I got home to a stack of increasingly upset e-mails and phone messages from Lydia, who apparently forgot that (a) I was going to be out of town until Monday, and (b) she had previously expressed no problems with my travel plans and, indeed, had not seemed particularly concerned about whether I was going to be in this week at all.

So, you know, I think tomorrow's going to be a bit of a mess. But it's going to be okay. We have great plans for later in the week, including friend-visiting and dinner-date-with-babysitting and, potentially, couch-buying.

Comments

[eeyorerin]

I suppose, given your reports of previous behavior on the part of Michael's stepmother, that I should not be surprised by her behavior. And yet I am agape in horror at her actions yet again. Why would anyone even SAY that to a pregnant woman once, let alone repeat it again and again?

I hope that later in the week is fun and that you get an awesome couch.

[janetmiles.livejournal.com]

Why would anyone even SAY that to a pregnant woman once, let alone repeat it again and again?

Because I cannot help playing devil's advocate:

1. If you are the obstetrician and are saying, "Because of X, Y, and Z I'm concerned about the possibility of you going into labor prematurely. I'd like you to do A, B, and C to reduce your risks."

2. If you actually think said pregnant woman is actually *in* labor, and are trying to convince her to go to the hospital now, please, or at least call her doctor.

Given that neither of those were the case, I don't understand it either.

[rivka.livejournal.com]

There's also a sort of dithery, solicitous context in which you might keep telling the pregnant woman to sit down, don't lift that, etc., you're so pregnant you could go into labor at any moment. This wasn't that, either. Which is still frustrating, but is readily explainable by a combination of (a) concerned motives and (b) inadequate understanding of pregnancy.

It was just incessant repetitions of "You're carrying SO LOW... I think the baby's dropped more even since yesterday. Are you feeling okay? You're sure you're feeling okay? You're not having any labor pains? Are you sure? Because that baby is READY TO COME OUT."

[mjlayman.livejournal.com]

Has she had kids?

[hobbitbabe.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you and your family are home.

[wcg.livejournal.com]

Welcome home.

[acceberskoorb.livejournal.com]

Poor things! Welcome back!

[bosssio.livejournal.com]

does she have kids of her own? I find that sometimes people who haven't experienced pregnancy kind of have this attitude that "well, premature babies are no big deal these days, what with all the neo-natal care and all".

Even if she has had babies, perhaps pregnancy was so far back in her history that she doesn't remember the intense protective feelings and fragile nature of a pregnant woman's feelings. Or maybe she is just a truly insensitive b!tch. Or some combination of the above.

Glad to hear that it went pretty okay, all things said.

[rivka.livejournal.com]

She has two sons, both of whom are in their late 40s or maybe early 50s. So yeah, it was a long time ago for her. And she doesn't seem that cued in to other people's feelings in general.

I finally got to the point where I planned out what I was going to say to her the next time she brought it up, and then it was time to go home. Mercifully.

I feel silly for letting it get to me, but you know how it is when you're hugely, hugely pregnant. "Fragile" is exactly the right word.

[rickvs.livejournal.com]

I'd be disinclined to write off your emotional pain to your own perceived fragility. Sounds like she'd hurt even the feelings of an emotionally well-callused person.

[janetmiles.livejournal.com]

I'm glad that the visit was mostly good, and that Michael and Alex were able to spend time with Michael's father.

Good luck with couch-buying!

[kcobweb.livejournal.com]

I just wrote about Elena and my dad bonding on this trip - I'm glad Alex got to bond too.

We've been home 2 1/2 days now, and things are finally evening out and returning to normal.

[sm255.livejournal.com]

Hi Rivka! I found something on another blog I read and wanted to share it with you; I thought of your Christmas visit when I read it. The writer is amother of two who had a miscarriage between her two babies. From http://www.wittydomainname.com/BlogJr.html:

"So there I was, telling everyone who asked that there was NO WAY we were having any more kids! NO! Three, and you're outnumbered! I'd have to buy a new car! The child would have to sleep in a drawer! No, no, a thousand times, NO.

Yeah, it's not too tricky to guess where this is heading.

Although we didn't plan to have another, I am now finding myself with child #3. And I'm happy and remarkably calm about it. Hormones do strange things to you. They can make you throw heavy objects at loved ones for no good reason, but they can also make you feel entirely at peace with something that one month ago would have given you a mild heart attack. We had a little "oops" a couple of months ago with a slight condom malfunction, and I literally woke up for days afterwards in a complete panic about being pregnant. This time, very shortly after we figured out that I was indeed fertile during that night of frivolity and red wine, I felt okay. Out of nowhere, a thought popped into my head: another child would be absolutely fine. And then I knew that I was pregnant. Well, I didn't know know because obviously that doesn't happen until you wee on a bit of plastic and you squint at lines for an hour in variable lighting. But I knew. And it made me smile.

I've promised myself to enjoy every single second of this pregnancy. I deeply regret spending the majority of my pregnancy with Mia in a state of panic and fear; I was newly grieving a missed miscarriage and incapable of feeling joy for this new life growing inside me until I was well into the second trimester. For months, I didn't want to plan anything "just in case", I didn't allow myself to simply feel happy, I stayed away from pregnancy web sites, I wouldn't dream of things to come, I didn't want to know her sex because I didn't want to get too attached if I lost the baby again. I refuse to do that this time.

Whether this lasts for another day or until the birth, I will cherish every moment. I didn't think I'd get to experience this again, and I'm elated to have the honour.

So, here we go...again."