19 weeks


I guess it's time to write here on my sliver of the internet that I am pregnant again. It's almost as though last year's pregnancy and this have merged and I have been feeling rather meh for half my life. Which has been tough. The good part is that I am now in my second trimester and am feeling better by leaps and bounds. The fatigue is still a thing, but certainly pales in comparison to the bone crushing exhaustion of the first trimester. (I don't particularly want to expand on the first trimester more. It's just no fun, eh?) I am visibly pregnant by this point thanks to this being number three for me, and am talking about it openly with my friends and students, but it is still hard for me to 100% sink into the excitement. There are still moments and even days when I am convinced the baby has died and I'm about to have my heart crushed again. That doesn't make a lot of rational sense and this point, but it persists none the less. Due to my "advanced maternal age" we had genetic screening back at 12 weeks and everything came out perfectly so that was a big sigh of relief. It's just proving hard to not expect the worst. I have never considered myself much of a worrier but this pregnancy has certainly challenged that view of myself. The past few days I've been felling what I'm pretty sure is Baby Girl tumbling around in my belly, so that will help once her movement is obvious and regular. It will also help my mood when I no longer have to wake up at 5:30 to get Sylvie off to school :-)

New Bio

I still really like the Bio I wrote a few years ago, but I've found parts of it aren't relevant any more, or at least as much at the forefront of the current iteration of me. It used to really bother me when things I considered core to my definition of self would drop away, but I've been around the block enough times to know that many things come and go and sometimes come again and that's just fine. When thinking of the words I'd use to describe myself now, I'd say I am a mother, a wife, a teacher, and then there are a few scraps left of me to dole out to family and friends plus be angry with Donald Trump. I am too tired for many of the pastimes I once loved even though I want to want to relish them. I don't necessarily like the busy, exhausted mess teaching has made of me, but it has its hooks in me fierce. I intensely dislike the standard question of whether I "like my job". It's as though my personal feelings on the subject are irrelevant. My job is important and I don't know how to walk away in good conscience. That plus it is challenging and never boring and some days fun. 

I still love reading, I still love hiking, I still love yoga, I still love music. I have grown increasingly fond of travel and movies. But none of these things gets high priority. I often I neglect these pursuits of pleasure even though they nourish me in important ways, and it turns out I am still me and I am still okay. I find my pleasure activities fall into three main categories. I am drawn to activities that teach me about the infinite beautiful ways to be a human. Books, movies, conversation, travel even politics fits this need for me. I also need aesthetic beauty in my life. Hiking, art, music, travel - all fill this need. I think this is strongly connected to my first category, but transcends it in ways that I cannot articulate except to say that they touch my soul. And lastly I need some movement in my body to make me feel fluid. Yoga, hiking, walking, and erstwhile running keep me going although it's been a rough stretch for me on this front.