Dry
I'm a bit... drained.
We went to Scotland for the weekend, and it was lovely, but... well, it was North East Scotland, which is significantly far away from Manchester, and a long way to go for a weekend, and my mind, or my body, or my soul, or all three, were playing up.
All this New Life Stuff (I think I'll be allowed to let the cat out of the bag soon, don't worry) is a bit scary, and a bit difficult, and a bit Totally Different, and apparently all Big Life Change is stressful, whether technically Good or Bad or Indifferent. I mean, like, according to clever Psychological Sciencey types wot do experiments and like to be empirical and all that, winning the lottery is just as stressful as going bust, and christenings are as hard as funerals, and I may well have mentioned this before, and yadda yadda yadda.
And then I find myself having massive mood swings, and my head going all fuzzy and bussy and my insides wound tight like a tightly wound thing, and the obvious conclusion is PMT, or maybe stress, or pregnancy... and then I start getting headaches, and waking up in the middle of the night with bile in my mouth or nausea and raging hunger, and getting REALLY ANNOYED about nothing in particular, or crying for no reason, and having intense heartburn, and again, it might be pregnancy, or it might be stress... or PMT...
And if it IS pregnancy, I might get ill, really ill, and if I don't get ill that might be because there's something wrong like last time, and then I might have another miscarriage (and how fucked up is THAT - that the surest sign of a healthy pregnancy would be vomiting to the point of life-threatening dehydration - fun, I don't think), and I've only ever been pregnant twice before, and both experiences were utterly horrendous for totally different reasons, and anyway I might NOT be pregnant and that too would make me sad, which makes me utterly fucked whichever way up you look at it...
...and then there's the Big Life Stuff...
But it's not healthy in the least for me to stress and obsess, so I have to breathe deeply and skoosh the negative thoughts away and tell myself everything will be fine, and stop fixating on the future and enjoy the present, but that's hard cos I keep bursting into tears or having my head threaten to explode, and I don't know whether that's because I'm stressing and obsessing and not thinking the right way about things, or if it's hormones (either she's-pregnant hormones or she's-not-pregnant hormones - again, fucked from each end and sideways) and therefore outside my control...
But fuck all that. I refuse to worry. Que sera. Everything changes. And I'm sure there's a whole bucket of cliches just waiting to be mined for all of it.
And anyway, it rained all day today, all the way from NE Scotland to NW England, and this was a VERY GOOD THING, because as I explained to everyone when they kept tutting over the weather forecasts, I would far rather drive in rain than in hot sun. Seriously though, why would anyone, even a sun-loving person (which I am not) want to sit in a small tin box in early July sunshine? Rain just means you have to drive a bit slower sometimes. It doesn't affect your whole body. It doesn't give you cancer. It doesn't turn an already-grumpy woman into a seething mood-boil of unlanced anger pus.
So, there you go. Hurrah for rain.
___
We went to Scotland for the weekend, and it was lovely, but... well, it was North East Scotland, which is significantly far away from Manchester, and a long way to go for a weekend, and my mind, or my body, or my soul, or all three, were playing up.
All this New Life Stuff (I think I'll be allowed to let the cat out of the bag soon, don't worry) is a bit scary, and a bit difficult, and a bit Totally Different, and apparently all Big Life Change is stressful, whether technically Good or Bad or Indifferent. I mean, like, according to clever Psychological Sciencey types wot do experiments and like to be empirical and all that, winning the lottery is just as stressful as going bust, and christenings are as hard as funerals, and I may well have mentioned this before, and yadda yadda yadda.
And then I find myself having massive mood swings, and my head going all fuzzy and bussy and my insides wound tight like a tightly wound thing, and the obvious conclusion is PMT, or maybe stress, or pregnancy... and then I start getting headaches, and waking up in the middle of the night with bile in my mouth or nausea and raging hunger, and getting REALLY ANNOYED about nothing in particular, or crying for no reason, and having intense heartburn, and again, it might be pregnancy, or it might be stress... or PMT...
And if it IS pregnancy, I might get ill, really ill, and if I don't get ill that might be because there's something wrong like last time, and then I might have another miscarriage (and how fucked up is THAT - that the surest sign of a healthy pregnancy would be vomiting to the point of life-threatening dehydration - fun, I don't think), and I've only ever been pregnant twice before, and both experiences were utterly horrendous for totally different reasons, and anyway I might NOT be pregnant and that too would make me sad, which makes me utterly fucked whichever way up you look at it...
...and then there's the Big Life Stuff...
But it's not healthy in the least for me to stress and obsess, so I have to breathe deeply and skoosh the negative thoughts away and tell myself everything will be fine, and stop fixating on the future and enjoy the present, but that's hard cos I keep bursting into tears or having my head threaten to explode, and I don't know whether that's because I'm stressing and obsessing and not thinking the right way about things, or if it's hormones (either she's-pregnant hormones or she's-not-pregnant hormones - again, fucked from each end and sideways) and therefore outside my control...
But fuck all that. I refuse to worry. Que sera. Everything changes. And I'm sure there's a whole bucket of cliches just waiting to be mined for all of it.
And anyway, it rained all day today, all the way from NE Scotland to NW England, and this was a VERY GOOD THING, because as I explained to everyone when they kept tutting over the weather forecasts, I would far rather drive in rain than in hot sun. Seriously though, why would anyone, even a sun-loving person (which I am not) want to sit in a small tin box in early July sunshine? Rain just means you have to drive a bit slower sometimes. It doesn't affect your whole body. It doesn't give you cancer. It doesn't turn an already-grumpy woman into a seething mood-boil of unlanced anger pus.
So, there you go. Hurrah for rain.
___
Labels: Babies, Miscarriage
2 Comments:
could be just fine clear weather though, and not too hot and bright. Say 18c or something. that would be better than rain. for me anyway.
ps hope you are a feeling a bit better now
Yes, I agree, but at this time of year when the sun comes out it's often hotter than that... any anyway, the rules all change when you're in a car. Having the sun shining on you when you're in a car is less pleasant, and I'd need the ambient temp to be even lower to be comfortable with it...
Post a Comment
<< Home