10 weeks

I am pregnant with my first child and everything I do is going to kill the baby.

This is the chatter in my head:

Can’t eat this, can’t drink that. Don’t put that on your skin! Don’t breath in polluted air! Don’t hold the ipad on your lap! Sleep more! Why are you sleeping all day, you lazy bastard?! Go finish your dissertation!  Keep researching 20 year plans.  Weigh educational and child rearing philosophies. Babywise and What to Expect and Montessori and Catholic school maybe and how are the schools in this area anyway?  Speaking of school, all your books are overdue and you haven’t written chapter 3 of the dissertation yet.  What kind of example are you setting for Baby? Do you have a cute baby bump? Are you glowing? Are you stocking up on adorable pregnancy outfits and saving up for designer diaper bags? And baby carriages? And all the beeping, booping tools you’ll need?  With the money you don’t have, because you’ve been in ABD hell for 5 years straight and OGS just notified you and said you’re not allowed to work on campus anymore?”

I wish I could say, “FUCK ALL THAT NOISE. I’m going to eat a burrito!” and be one of those chill, cool people that spit out adorable babies anyway and everything works out.  The truth is, I’m a little neurotic and very insecure and have so many things that I want for my family and still want for myself.  Well, “want” isn’t so much the word — more like, I don’t feel like I’ve achieved anything concrete for myself all these years (a consequence of schooling, maybe).  I’m unfinished.

Can I finish myself in 30 more weeks?


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