just want to remind you,” he says, “that this is real. If we make this mistake,
we’re going to have to live with it.”
“Is that what our child is? A mistake?”
puts a hand on my knee. I want to knock it off and spit in his face, but I
restrain myself. “Look,” he says, “I said the wrong thing. I didn’t mean to. I’m
not saying mistake. I’m not saying I
definitely don’t want to do it. What I’m saying is that this is a commitment. And
you’re not – well –”
like to live in the moment,” he says. “And that’s great, except when it comes
to things like paying bills and doing dishes. That’s stuff that can sometimes
wait. What can’t wait is a hungry kid who needs his dirty diaper changed. A kid
who’s screaming his fucking head off at three in the morning. How are you going
to feel when you have to shove your dreams aside to deal with that?”
that’s where I lose it. Of course, I’m tightassed in my own way, so my version
of losing it is taking off my
sunglasses and hissing in his face, not knocking over his beer and screaming or
anything. “Why is it my dreams that
have to get shoved aside? We’re in this together, aren’t we?”
the point, babe. Both of us will be shoving things aside. You’ve got to make
room, you know?”
course he’s right. That process starts before the kid is even born. Your organs
rearrange. Your pelvis stretches. Everything yawns and expands, preparing.
Angela texted me today and said that she saw a woman being wheeled out of the hospital with her new baby. She is beaming, she wrote. Thinking of you.
I have been in happy hormonal near-tears half the day thinking of meeting my Poppy. Our Poppy. Walking a dog (Luna!) for Family Dog Rescue today, I ran into my friend Caitlin, newly back from overseas. "You look great," she said. "I see the terror and the excitement in your face."
I'm a writer and storyteller in Berkeley, CA. If you're wondering where that is, follow the smell of patchouli and skunkweed. There you'll find me with my kickass husband, gorgeous little boy, and manic Lab-Australian Shepherd mix pups. I'm represented by Miriam Altshuler of DeFiore & Co., but of course, my views are my own.