As a case manager, I am CONTINUOUSLY assisting my clients in "reframing" thoughts. I work with them to reshape something that is a negative into a positive, or at least a neutral. Without bragging, I can say I am good at my job. And, I practice what I preach.
As everyone knows well by now, this pregnancy was NOT a planned event. Originally, we were going to wait five years before evaluating if we wanted to pursue this path or not. The birth control pill I took each morning was evidence of my commitment to that plan. However, when the life was discovered, I was able to reframe my thinking relatively quickly.
I quickly began to admire the little creature inside of me for his tenacity and fortitude. I began to anticipate the opportunity to meet this little being and be motivated by his presence to create a more perfect family future. I began to more carefully guard my own plans so as to ensure no unnecessary compromise and eventual frustrations. I began to understand the value of quiet moments and the urgency of developing the sort of relationship habits with my husband to ensure the 50 weeks we have been given as an independent couple have not been wasted. All in all, I became very positive very quickly. Even Nathaniel jumped on board relatively quickly, which is not a character trait for which he is known - reinforcing the miraculous nature of this child.
That's not to say we have not had our share of truly frustrating moments and stresses. Even families who embark on this journey after much psychological and personal preparation admit that it is a stressful change of familial circumstances. Nothing was ready for this child - not our bank accounts, our employment statuses, our housing situation, our academic plans, our psychologies... NOTHING. Some things rectified quickly. We now have a beautiful home with an amply sized room for the baby. Nathaniel was able to add some time to his work schedule, increasing income.
Some things, however, remain obstinate barriers.
One such barrier is our insurance. The thought of having EVEN MORE MONEY withheld from my primary, monthly paycheck to pay for the pitiful coverage I am afforded to be generalized to our firstborn is a stressor that I cannot confront at this time. I have to identify a more feasible strategy to cover the inevitable bills. Also, apparently, circumcision is considered cosmetic and won't be covered, no matter what insurance we choose.
Other concerns are the usual suspects: How do I go about picking a Pediatrician? What criteria should I even use? What do I do with the fact that I want to decorate the nursery in Yankees pinstripe, but my husband isn't buying it? How do I find out if the convertible car seat I registered for will be ok with the hospital or if I need to get one of those infant seats I find reprehensible? Will the arrangement with work actually pan out so I don't need to find additional child care? What if I don't care if the study has been debunked, I don't want our son to be given rapid-fire bundled immunizations? And the list continues on, usually long into the night, when I should be sleeping.
All in all, I am proud of the way I approach and handle these things, whether truly stressful or easily malleable. I've been able to maintain great physical health, as well as mental health. Until yesterday, that is.
Finally, I had enough. Reframing suddenly seemed like the biggest load of hogwash. I had no capacity for turning a negative to a positive. I also had no desire to do so.
The straw which broke this camel's back is the seemingly ridiculousness of the magnitude of planning that goes into ensuring blood sugar readings that will prevent my child from growing to gargantuan proportions. Facing the protein/starch abyss that had become my existence, with an eye toward keeping portions correct and refrigerated, yet readily available during the unpredictable work day I anticipated was a task to which I was not well matched. I spent an hour - sixty minutes... 3,600 seconds... 1/24 of my day - looking at the shelves and recesses of my kitchen trying to plan the next 12 hours of food consumption that would take place outside the walls of my home.
Do you know where I didn't spend that hour? In the bathroom. So, I left the house WITHOUT hair well styled or makeup done, with a satchel of snacks that were neither cohesive nor appealing to me. The simple act of eating and feeding became so overwhelming to me that it superseded any other function, and left me feeling deflated and frustrated as I handled the rest of my day.
Topping it all off was the fact that I went to a job where clients regularly assert their senses of entitlement. And I certainly felt no sympathy for anyone else's sense of entitlement yesterday.
I my perception, one truly "off" day in the 22 weeks we've known about the baby is not a bad average. However, it did not feel so good to have to deal with work and the frustrations of everything becoming increasingly difficult to address. I still have to address those stressors which are plaguing me in the middle of the night. And, I have little confidence that raging hormones, fluctuating sugar, and an encroaching due date will alleviate any of the stress I am feeling.
However, the deadline approaches no less rapidly or forcefully. And, I realize that perhaps this is the first great lesson of adulthood: the world is not going to stop for my inability to adjust. Our child will not stop developing and needing. Our deadlines will continue to approach. It is truly time to put up or shut up.
I woke up and decided to make today better. I marginally succeeded. Let's hope that putting up or shutting up are skills that are sharpened with practice. That may be our only hope for ultimate success in this parenting scheme.
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