Passion

I watched a movie today. There was a line that I definitely applauded. It went something along the lines of, "Wealth, love, romance, the world- I can take you to movies that have all of that." The boy says in reply to the girl's question of, "What can you offer me?"

I love movies. I watch them with passion, I immerse myself in them, and when they are over I wish they were about me... most of the time. To romanticize your world to look just like the big screen, I wonder if everyone does that.

Just once I wish they would make a movie that I could look at and say, "Hey, that could totally be my life." But movies are too perfect to be real life, unless they are based on perfect people's lives. There seems to always be something missing. Some taste of human actuality. I wish I could find that. I wish I could taste it. But more importantly I wish I could be it.

That thing that everyone reaches for and no one quite attains. It's beautifully sad. It's tragedy in its utmost. And I would totally act if I could. Mind you, in my head I feel I would do well, but in center stage or in front of a camera crew, I fear I would fall short. I would rather romanticize what might be, than test what could.

Perhaps that is true tragedy.

Entry 2

I think I can safely say now that the oddest question to ever have to answer is, "When is the baby due?"... especially when it comes from complete strangers. Riding in the elevator the other day I was asked this question by a man in his sixties. I answered honestly, but after getting off the elevator and going our separate ways I was a little confused. I mean, really, why would a sixty something man want to know the due date of my baby? Why would anyone? It's a weird thing to think about...

I wonder if it's more of a cultural thing. Our culture in America knows how to have a conversation with a complete stranger so long as she is pregnant- we can ask seemingly personal questions without knowing the person at all, and it can start a seemingly meaningful conversation.

In actuality, however, I believe that it's a rather rude question. It's really no one's business when the baby is due, unless they're friend, family, or obgyn. But, nevertheless, our culture has deemed it not only a safe topic of conversation, but an encouraged one.

On the side of someone who has been asked this question by multiple strangers on a daily basis, I have to say that I want to respond with, "Why? Are you planning on being there?" - this is even more so an overwhelmingly desired response when the person follows the due date question with the "Where are you delivering" question.

Children don't understand why they ask the questions of our culture. They see their parents do it, and so they then think that's what you ask anyone who is pregnant. They could care less what the response is, and actually have probably stopped paying attention by the time they get an answer, but they do it because they think it's the right thing to do... The parents, however, especially the mothers, have an agenda for asking. They really just want to turn the conversation to themselves. Talk about what it was like when they were pregnant, how awful or wonderful their pregnancies were, and talk about whatever part of the labor/delivery process they feel like they are experts in.

If they had an epidural they'll tell you that that is the only way to have a baby, and if they didn't have one they'll say it's really not as bad as people make it out to be. They'll talk about how their first baby was late and then the rest were early, and say that you're baby will most likely be late as well since it's your first. Then the conversation will inevitably turn to what gender the baby is, (this is especially true for those who don't know what they're having, because then the conversation can turn to the mothers making their predictions over what gender your baby will be).

So for those lucky mothers who have decided to not find out what they are having, be prepared for tons of speculations that all sound a little absurd. They'll ask you questions about the fetus' heart rate, and say if it's high they'll tell you it's a girl, if it's low then it's a boy. But really the variables between the two genders is so slight that that method of determining is pretty much a hoax. There's also the "how you're carrying" observation- unless you get a mother talking to you who has only had one gender multiple times and carried each baby differently. That mother will be able to give you the most honest observation- that each individual baby is carried a little differently, and that you really can't say based on how you carry the baby whether it will be a boy or a girl.

There are many other questions, and many other ways for the pregnant mother to feel uncomfortably hounded by thousands of strangers (who in all honesty really have no idea what they're talking about seeing as how they have not given birth to every single baby in the world, and yet they feel that by giving birth to two, four, or even six they have become as much of an expert in the field of birthing as an obgyn who has been delivering babies for forty years...) The above mentioned scenarios, however, are probably the most common.

So, if you're a first time mom and going through some if not all of these circumstances, I offer you my sincere sympathies, and encourage you to hang in there... You won't be asked, "When is the baby due?" for the rest of your life, despite the fact that at times it probably feels like it!

Entry 1

I guess I never really thought that at the age of twenty I would have lived all the life I could for myself, and that already I would have to live life for someone else. I don’t mean that in a selfish sense, I just mean that before now I only had to take care of myself, worry about how I was doing in school, figure out the grocery list I would need for the week, etc. But now it’s no longer just me. It’s my husband, and also the baby that is still residing in my belly, and when I shop it’s no longer money that I can spend and not feel guilty about, it’s our family’s.
I was just getting used to being in college, and now life has completely changed… again. I don’t feel like I’m ready to let go of the plans I had made for myself- plans like studying abroad for a semester, traveling, finishing my last two years of college at the university of my dreams, or just even taking time to really date someone. Before I knew it I was married. The window was so small, that time where it was just me, I had about a year and a half of not being under my parents and being out by myself in the world, and I will never again have that opportunity.
I have been told to not have regrets, but it’s hard when looking back on life I continuously see instances in which I didn’t enjoy the time of life I was in. I guess I am doing that now, not fully enjoying this time of life- a time where the first child I will have is still in my belly and not out in the world yet.
I am so not ready for this. I know everyone says that, and that everyone says you will never be able to fully be ready for having children, but I’m really not. I haven’t even figured out what I want to do with my life. I thought for the longest time that I wanted to be a writer, and I still would love to be, but it’s hard to write imaginatively anymore. It was easy for me to make up stories and create characters when there seemed to be a vast field of opportunities before me. It was fine for me to have childish thoughts, and put fantasies to paper, but now I can’t. I can’t fantasize about what my love life will be like, who I will date, who will marry me, etc, because I’m already married. I can’t dream about going off and doing things like traveling the world by myself, or living in foreign places with some of my friends, because now I have a family. I can’t daydream for myself anymore- any daydreams I have involve the baby incubating in my stomach.
It took me so long to be able to dream for myself, to really push beyond the walls of my mind that told me I would never be able to do anything for myself, and begin to make plans that were my own. I guess there was a reason it was so hard for me, I guess in reality I’m not supposed to make plans of my own, or live for myself. But it’s hard not to want that. It’s really, really hard.
I find myself wishing that I had had more time to think about things this summer before making decisions. But then I wouldn’t be where I am, and is that really, truly what I would want? I feel guilty all of the time. Guilty that my husband is having to work full time instead of finish college, guilty that I’m really not working and so he’s paying for everything, guilty that single handedly crushed all of my family’s dreams for me. I feel overwhelmed, I just want to do something for myself, but it’s like I can’t even get time to myself because I need to be working for my dad, or I need to be with my husband. And when I am alone I just feel depressed because I have nothing to do, no dream that I’m trying to accomplish. I have to dream again, to create something new that I can put my heart into once more. I wish it was writing, but even now I’m struggling just putting thought onto page, so maybe this isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing. I need to find something that I’m passionate about, the problem is I can’t think of anything that I am passionate about anymore. I used to love reading, but now I can hardly even look at books, they don’t give me that feeling of adventure anymore.
It used to be that holding a book in my hand made me feel powerful- like I could be any character within its pages, travel to any land, experience any wonder, taste any world. But now my imagination has died, or at least fallen into a coma.
Have you ever noticed that the fairy-tales end with “And they all lived happily ever after?” After the wedding the dreaming stops, because the dream has come true. And have you ever realized that the sequels to all the Disney fairy-tale movies aren’t near as good as the originals? Ever thought to yourself that the people who wrote the sequel story lines had no imagination? Well, it’s probably true, they probably don’t, because it’s hard to push the imagination to dream again. How do you create a dream after a dream has been fulfilled?
I’m going off and I can barely follow myself, so I’m going to end this here. Forgive me for publishing this, but I’m going to attempt to start writing again, and so I need to push myself. Hopefully this will be the worst posting I ever give.