This is the first time I've actually sat down and started a blog that I had no idea what I was going to write about. I've felt so uninspired lately, to write anything, to clean my house, to stand up.
The good news is that my house IS clean. I hired some ladies to come over and clean it, and they came this morning. It was wonderful. Well, great, except for I felt so guilty letting them clean my house that I had to be up organizing and straightening while they worked. Why is that? I can't just sit down and relax. Not while they're cleaning up my mess. That and well, they were speaking Spanish to each other and laughing and I just couldn't knock that Seinfeld episode (where Elaine's getting her nails done by some Japanese women who sat around talking about her while they worked). Everytime they laughed, I wondered if they were laughing at how dirty my house is. Did I mention that pregnancy makes me a little paranoid?
I've been upset lately. Mainly about my dad whose health is deteriorating fast. We found out that his neck is fractured, along with several vertebrae. No wonder he couldn't hold his neck straight. Looks like he's going to have surgery soon. To put in some rods or something. I don't know if he's healthy enough to undergo anesthesia. I worry. My sister says that he's having a hard time concentrating on a conversation. That his brain just isn't functioning like it was. And worse, he's lost hope. I'm scared.
I'm also starting to worry about having this baby. I know it's going to be hard. I'm worried that I'll be overwhelmed, my hormones will be all out of whack, and then I'll have Miranda's birthday several days later. I'm worried about being depressed. My only other spout of depression (not catastrophe related) was post-partum, so I know it's possible. I hope that if I expect the worst, then it won't be as bad as I think. But not only that, I'm worried about the first fifteen months of Portia's life. That everytime she does something, I'll be thinking about the last time I went through my baby's first time, which will have been with Miranda. I'm pretty sure that's why people always said that that's why the first year after losing your baby is so hard--because you have to go through your first Christmas, Easter, birthday, everything without her. Well, here I go: I'm going to have a complete fifteen months of firsts with a baby that isn't her. And I'm scared. I'm scared I'll resent this baby for not being Miranda and that's not fair.
Wow, so I just dumped a lot down. Sorry. I guess I needed it somewhere besides stuck in my brain that wakes me at 3 a.m. and won't let me get back to sleep. I have, however, gotten a lot of reading done because of my body's inability to go back to sleep.
The phone just rang. It's a miracle. Eric's on his way home and it's 5:15. I think the last time this happened was in college.
