Mayor of Bipsy Town

So last night I had what I refer to as a "Bipsy." My sister-in-law calls it "throwing a nutty." Either way, it was no fun, for me or Scott. It started with me expressing my dissatisfaction about something completely unrelated to what was really going on-- the fact that I was having a freak attack.

When I finally got to the heart of the matter, things went like this:

Me: I need you to tell me it's okay that my work is really slow so I'm not making much money and that I'm fat and veiny.

Long pause.

Me: Please say something rapidly.

Scott handled it all like a pro. The pause was because he believed that I was setting a trap for him (which of course I've never, ever done before!) and that whatever he said would not be right. Particularly because the word "fat" was part of my freak out.

When he finally spoke he said: It's okay with me. But it needs to be okay with you.

Where did I find this guy? Seriously. I've been going to Alanon meetings for over six years and can't come up with stuff like that. He was right on the mark. I'd like to say my freakout ended there, but it did not, and I continued to express my anxiety about everything from needing to register for baby stuff to what we were going to be for Halloween.

For a long time, I knew I was prone to depression, but I'm just realizing the role that anxiety plays in my life. I can whirl myself into a tizzy over just about anything (as proven by the fact that our Halloween costumes makes my short list of things to freak over). Add pregnancy hormones and all the unknowns of impending motherhood to the mix = Bipsy. Even my cat was starting to get nervous. (Although I believe she also has a predisposition to anxiety. Along with the fact that she likes to eat zucchini bread and pizza crusts, I am starting to believe that we somehow share genetic material.)

Eventually after much deep breathing and crazy ranting, I calmed down and fell asleep. I woke up this morning realizing I need to be more proactive about doing the things that keep me grounded-- exercise, journaling, prayer and the dreaded meditation. I really want to enjoy these last few months of calm before el bambino comes on the scene.

My prenatal yoga class started back up again the other day. Besides getting all stretchy, I always seem to learn some fun and often disturbing thing about pregnancy/birthin'. Last time it was the "Ring of Fire." This time the teacher mentioned that pregnant women acquire fat on their backs and sides (I like to call this back bacon-- I'm not sure why, but I like it.). I was relieved to hear that because I'd recently noticed this exact phenomenon occuring on my very back and sides-- so it was nice to hear it was a normal part of pregnancy. What I wasn't so wild about hearing was: "It Never Goes Away." What?!? I thought this prenatal yoga stuff was supposed to be relaxing...

I know I complain a lot in here about the not-so-fun parts of this journey, because I need to because it's scary and amazing and science fiction-y. But I also have nice little moments of excitement to meet this little dude who is so avidly thrashing around in my stomach. It's fun to think about who he might look like, who he might be. Like he will probably like to laugh and be fairly proficient with the English language and chances are he will have a sturdy nose. But who knows, really. It's part of the adventure of all of this-- the same reason I get so anxious. But right now, just for this moment-- I think it might all be really, really amazing.

I'm going to stop there, before I freak myself out again.