Tuesday, July 2, 2013
“It’s not easy to juggle a pregnant wife and a troubled child, but somehow I managed to squeeze in 8 hours of TV a day.” - Homer Simpson
I was on the phone to my Mummsy on the weekend discussing my mystery anxiety.
I was hoping that maybe the intense feelings of butterflies in my gut were just something as simple as me having intestinal worms or a side effect of my metabolism suddenly becoming like a hyperactive grey hound.
Mummsy is a social worker and blitzed her uni degree by using her own children as Case Study A, B & C. (names changed to protect the not so innocent) She's a very good listener & likes to put on her "lie down on the couch and tell me more" face.
I chatted through my usual stresses, IVF, shit Finances, fluctuating weight, should I buy ANOTHER Kate Moss red lipstick (it's pink red with a dash of coral not red red like the others Dammit!) and my episodes of depression.
"Narrrrrr Mummsy" I whined "I'm totes cool with all that stuff. I mean I'm a bit stressEE but not insomnia stressed".
"Hmmmmmm" Mummsy responded wisely.
Then it hit me. The light bulb came on. The elevator finally went to the top floor & I was suddenly playing with a full deck.
"I know what it is Mummsy". I declared.
"Hmmmmm?" Mummsy answered in calming tones.
"O...M....G I am terrified that we actually might just succeed in IVF this round. Bloody hell. What if I actually DO GET PREGNANT!!!"
Now I know what your thinking... Well derrr Vicki. The whole point of IVF is getting preggers!
I guess I never occurred to allow it into my consciousness what would happen if we succeed.
I only have a few worries.
1. What if I swell up like a dead dugong?
2. What if my whole vagina falls out and they have to poke it back in with a stick?
3. What if we have a hideously ugly baby?
5. How the hell do you bath a baby?
6. What if the baby screams for 3 years non stop?
7. What if I get overloaded with the amount of clothing choices for the baby in Best N Less & I just end up dressing it in the same outfit for the first 2 years of it's life & it ends up with serious identity issues and becomes a serial killer?
8. What if the child grows up to be a total arsehole? (like me when I was a teen *shudder*) or like that Honey-Boo-Boo monstrosity ?
9. What if my pelvic floor collapses & I have to wear an adult diaper for the rest of my life because I keep pooing myself.
10. What if I just can't cope & it causes fighting between TBF & I and he leaves me for a super model and goes to live in America and I'm left alone with a screaming child and no energy to even put a bandanna in my hair?!
11. How the fuck do you afford to have a baby????
12. What if I can't cope with baby vomit, poo & snot & I continually vomit over the child in disgust.
After venting the above completely rational fears to Mummsy, I felt the weight of anxiety leave me.
I exhaled. I felt MUCH better. I realised that I will be fine. I have a huge support of family & friends who will help me. TBF is way too disorganised and apathetic to leave me for some model and when in doubt I can always rely on Pinterest to show me the way.
"Thank you SO much Mummsy. I love you. You are the BEST!" I hollered down the phone.
"Hmmmmmmm" Mummsy replied lovingly.