3.28.17 The Reality of Things

I live in a tiny house with taupe walls, popcorn ceilings, and brown carpet. The brown carpet has over a dozen darker brown circles and ovals smelling of puppy urine. In the bedroom there’s tropical green floral Floridian inspired curtains. There’s bits of artwork on the walls, either gifts or artisan purchases. My favorite is a plastic baby dolls hand coming out of a small three by three teal square. The hand’s reaching out waiting for someone to grasp on. In the beginning creating a baby is a fragile process. Overexert yourself physically or emotionally and it will abort. Once you get past the first trimester though, the baby isn’t going anywhere and continues to create itself.

There’s two dogs running around and slobbering on each other in my bedroom with big pink toothy grins. My queen bed feels like an island and the dogs curled tails circling the bed remind me of shark fins. Tyler lays beside me in his navy blue boxer shorts and white tee with the Ipad Mini in his hand watching poker videos on YouTube.  I’m laying here feeling nauseous with a paper cup of lemonade and sprite sweating on the nightstand beside me. Today marks 8 weeks and 6 days pregnant and I can honestly say last week was the hardest thus far.

Every day I feel like I have eaten something rotten and then decided to ride the Gravitron at the Mid-state Fair. The Gravitron is a completely enclosed ride which makes you feel like your skin and eyes are going to fly off of your bones. The ride has forty-eight blue and green padded panels lining the inside wall. To ride the Gravitron, a person must lean against these panels, which are angled back. According to Wikipedia, “As the ride rotates, centrifugal force is exerted against the pads by the rider, removing the rider from the floor, due to the slant. The ride can reach a maximum speed of 24 rpm in less than 20 seconds.” Whenever I get off the ride I can’t walk straight and it’s not uncommon to see someone puking in a trashcan full of corndogs and funnel cakes.

Right now, my baby is the size of a grape with webbed fingers and toes. It has dark blue eyes which now have eyelids and a spine is already developing. The baby’s tail is gone and it’s sucking its thumb! If someone asked me how my life was nine months ago I would have said I was in control. I knew what I wanted. Now I go to work and daydream about reasons to go home because I hate my job writing analytical, dry, emotionless incident reports. Today on my lunch break I was actually wishing a wave of morning sickness would hit me so I could get some puke on my white blouse, come inside with my eyes watering and say I needed to go home and rest. How sick is that?

I wish I could make money writing a lifestyle blog which I would title, “WTMOTHER” as in What the Mother am I doing getting pregnant while I Iive in an apartment with two crazy dogs and a boyfriend, who “got clean” from opiates six months ago. I thought when the addict stopped using everything would be okay, but life just gives us new obstacles. I definitely wouldn’t trade the past for the present though.

Lately, when I am thinking rationally, life is clear to me. When I look outside myself for happiness and my sense of well-being I’m miserable. I’m miserable because I give up control to my family and friends and without their knowledge, they rule my emotions and fate. My truest most pure happiness comes from within. “Control is an illusion, especially the kind of control we are trying to exert. In fact, controlling gives other people, events and diseases control over us.” (Melody Beattie).


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