Monthly Archives: October 2009

Ouch; or, the Hard Way to Lose That Last 7 Pounds

So those of you blessed with knowing my whiny self might know that I’ve had a hell of a time getting back down to my pre-Natan pregnancy weight. In fact, I sometimes felt like I was holding on to that last 7 pounds as part of my grief. I’m sure that sounds extreme, many many women hold onto some weight post-pregnancy, but for some reason I felt particularly anxious over it. I’d ask myself, “Is that Natan’s 7 pounds, or Baby Man’s 7 pounds?” Which is a silly question, and one that only enters my mind at random moments, and then is pushed out again as I’m aware of its absurdity.

I also thought about that weight, wondering if I should lose it as part of my preparations for a next pregnancy, or rather as an acknowledgment that my childbearing days are over.

Well, those questions are moot for the moment. Although of course it could easily return, but then what kind of weight is it?

They are moot right now because I’ve lost 14 pounds! in the past three weeks. I have no idea why. Only that if I eat something more substantial than carrrots, apples, blueberries, potatoes or plain toast, it passes through me in the most unpleasant manner.

The pain started about 6 weeks ago, actually, but it was sharp only at moments, and the doctor blamed it on a burst ovarian cyst. Now we’re thinking maybe gall bladder, and I’ve had a battery of tests to determine that. I don’t fit the profile for a bad gall bladder in any way, but the symptoms sound like it.

An awful lot of drama for a not so special problem, but it irks me. And is making it hard to function and work on a normal basis.

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Tis that time of year again

Countdown. D – less than three months to the three year anniversary of Natan’s death.

Who is Natan? I don’t know. He’s my son. He’s buried up north. I didn’t visit his grave on the second anniversary because we had to be half a country away for interviews, and I won’t visit his grave on the third anniversary because we’ll have to be half a continent away again for the same reason. How do I feel about that? Honestly I don’t know. I don’t know if it matters. Maybe it’s all that matters. I don’t know.

I’m completely useless at this, this prolonged death and grief thing. Is Natan still dead? Am I just a self-absorbed, under-developed human being myself for still thinking about it? I’m not berating myself, I just wonder, what does it matter? Is this such a great place to be anyway? I was so certain when he died that he had a neshama, a soul. These days, to be completely honest, I’m not sure any of us do. In those moments when I was closer to death, I was much more certain about life.

In the days and months after, I was more certain, for example, that I’d rather Natan had lived, no matter his condition and health. I don’t know anymore and I might deserve to be told to fuck off for that. In terms of mundane lived experience, however, my life is a whole hell of a lot easier with my full-term son than it would have been with my micro-preemie.

I’d by lying if I said it never occurs to me that I’m better off with Baby Man. Seriously rail at me if you disagree and that’s disrespectful of life. I don’t care. I don’t know. It makes me crazy, at times, that I think it, but I’ve never said I’m perfect.

Don’t tell me it’s “normal,” because I don’t need comfort. I think I’m coming to peace with it, and am able to be honest.

My pregnancy with Baby Man was the luckiest period of my life–I had no reason to expect I would go to my due date. And (right now, maybe it will change) I can’t really summon the energy to wish anything had been different. But it’s not like I can do anything about it, so do my wishes even matter?