MERCURY IN RETROGRADE

Things have been a bit chaotic around these parts lately. Little things going wrong day to day for no reason. Bigger things going wrong personally and in my close sphere, disastrous freakish things within days or even hours of each other. Mental states so foreign from those held previously have been creeping in, so insidiously and irrationally. Where a sense of calm had descended upon me about my upcoming birth and the baby, fear has now taken its place, and has compounded in ways that I haven't experienced with such intensity over the past eight months. I find the darkest thoughts about stillbirth and illness coming forth from the recesses of my mind against my will, against all rationality. I feel a simultaneous need to release all this emotional turmoil, and an inability to get any words out. While there have been many topics - mostly positive insights - stewing in my mind that I've been eager to share here, when it comes to writing, lately I have found myself unable to get anything out. It's as though I have been unknowingly jerked into some negative space and remain stuck there, despite my best efforts.

Funnily enough, at the height of all this strangeness, I came across a post about Mercury in retrograde (you can read it here). Basically, Mercury is the planet that controls thought and communication, and it is totally fucking that up at the moment. I don't know how much I even believe in astrology, but I thought it was still interesting even if you read about it from a place of skepticism.

I like the point made in the post about questioning what happens when bad shit happens when Mercury isn't in retrograde, when there are no planetary alignments or external factors to blame. Maybe these periods come and go for no discernible reason. Or maybe things will turn around after August 8. Either way, I guess at times like these it's best to bunker down and wait for the storm to pass.

MAKING FRIENDS

This morning I read an interesting article on how difficult it can be for people to make, and maintain, meaningful friendships once they enter their 30s.

Although not yet in my 30s, the sentiment of this article resonated with me, as Alex and I definitely struggled with this phenomenon after the 6 year old came into our care and started making friends at her new school. Neither of us have many friends who have children, and while I am lucky enough to have some of the most amazing and supportive friends you could ask for*, I couldn't help but wonder if I should start making friends with fellow parents, both for the sake of the 6 year old and for my sake - having people who I could relate to in terms of the lice treatments, discipline tactics, fun kids craft activities, and all the other little nuances that come with raising a child.

I don't know how earnestly I tried, to be honest. Luckily for us, the 6 year old's best friend has parents who are quite like-minded when it comes to their lifestyle and general philosophies - we can chat fairly easily about growing a vegetable garden and enjoying a child-free drunken wine night on the weekend. But, at the end of the day, I just wasn't able to relate on any meaningful level. The age gap doesn't help - try as I might to relate, I don't have the same thoughts, worries, life experience as someone approaching their 40s. Likewise, I'm sure they can see that I am of an entirely different generation, and still finding my feet with this whole parenting thing. Maybe the obstacle is more my inability to fully commit to making an effort. Either way, I came to realise that while it certainly helps to be able to relate to these people as friendly acquaintances, why do I need more than that? Perhaps, rather than trying to force friendships out of obligation or some perceived need, we should just let new ties form naturally - to whatever extent they happen to develop - and not try to push beyond that.


*At the end of the day, while my friends may be childless, we still relate to each other on a level that is irreplaceably meaningful, and I hope that these bonds will carry through well into and past our 30s.

CABIN FEVER

It's been a long time between drinks (both figuratively and literally) - I wish I could say I've been busy gallivanting across Europe, or anywhere outside my front door really. In reality I've been sick and housebound for the past five days, which is starting to take its toll. Theoretically, a week off at home sounds great, except for the fact that you are literally unable to do anything except curl up in the foetal position and curse the baby inside you for denying you access to the healing, glorious bounty that is cold and flu medication (which I use in moderation, just as a disclaimer). I can only imagine what it was like for the indisposed before the invention of penicillin - yes, perhaps not exactly a fair comparison, but the cabin fever has caused me to become a bit bonkers.

Perhaps due to my slightly delirious state, I found myself overcome by what they call in birthing class, "nesting". This occurs when a pregnant woman gets the sudden urge to prepare for the arrival of the baby, which I thought was a load of bull until I woke up one morning at 3am in a panic - We have no clothes for the baby! What if we don't get any in time and it has to go around just in nappies? Shit, we don't have any nappies. It can't go around naked because then I'll have to clean up its poo from the floor. We need baby wipes. Shit. And what about those cotton wool ball things? What about a play mat? What if the baby becomes dim-witted from lack of stimulation? Where am I going to put the baby when I'm alone and need to go to the toilet? etc etc etc. On second thought, I'm not sure if this is "nesting" or just regular crazy. And I wonder how much of all this a baby actually needs, as opposed to  what the parents need in order to make themselves feel prepared and mildly competent. I wonder if Einstein had a play mat or one of those high-contrast black and white mobiles.

Just to round off this strange mish-mash of thoughts, an insight from a friend who recently gave birth to her first child:
Obviously you expect it to be painful but honestly nothing in this world could ever prepare you for the pain, it's like nothing else... As for forgetting the pain instantly once you hold your baby, it's all bull! I still haven't forgotten!!