Week 9 Day 4
I read today a pregnancy blog, Sarah Gilbert's, which is what inspired me to start my own. We have so much in common, me and Sarah - as all pregnant women do I suppose. But our names are so similar, we both call our little ones Olive, she was worried in the first trimester due to her earlier miscarriage, too weird.
I lost nausea today. I was happy, but also worried, the usual worries as it's only 9 weeks 4 days today. Too early to lose nausea I think. But what can one truly do in these matters? I do smell very fishy down there, the pregnancy smell I remember it from my first pregnancy when I was very young and fertile.
Now Olive is swimming happily in her ocean unaware that she is something separate from me, a little pit of a girl. Lately I imagine her in her teenage youth, long and limber and goofy like her parents. A substantial wisp of a woman - both solid like an Olive, and with a taste so unique, indescribably wonderful.
Then I imagine my mother's reaction to the name. Well, we won't tell her! That's it. "Aren't you going to raise her Muslim?!" she'll cry out in a desperate angry plea, her specialty. "No, mother, I will not inflict upon her the curse of what is now practised as Islam." On the other hand, I was positively jealous when I read of Sarah Gilbert's trips to the church. The community of the community. And faith is always something to be admired, prayerful faithful thankful blissful. What is that? So difficult for me now because I have no community in spirituality. Even the kundalinists seem false in their shared terminology - automated and group-thinking.
I'd like to start a mama community. I loved that Sarah Gilbert knit. I must start to knit too, or crochet or make something wonderful with my hands. Looking at my drawings, my patterns, I quite like them. I should have gone into textile design - if I was in Pakistan maybe I would have. I was even looking up practicing law in Pakistan today. I wondered how it would feel to defend human rights cases there, defend the women who are raped by their father-in-laws and rejected by their husbands. Well, first I'd have to make my fortune elsewhere.
I've been feeling terribly poor and afraid but then I did get a phone call and have an interview tomorrow. Now God is giving Aaron lots of financial success. I am so proud of him, supporting his family and friends and such. He is a model of virtuous success, built on creativity, brain power and heart. Then he goes and packs up our entire Miami house single-handedly in 2 days! I've given up flying for Olive. Now he's driving my car up to New York - yea. I am so happy. I have so much and nothing to complain about really.
I wonder what happened with the last interview - did they not like me? I thought I was good. I have to go with the utmost confidence. Is it my hair they did not like? Perhaps I'll wear a red shirt or jacket - yes! I have been having intermittent headaches. I'm not stressed anymore. I do feel very large, very large, because I ate so much today. I ordered from Kushie and a little Sikh boy in a turban came to my door, smiling in this silly way. I had to look in the mirror after he left - I looked good, if a little greasy-haired and pimply. The biryani was so moist and the makhani daal so delicious I simply couldn't stop eating and eating. I ate the entire thing over the course of the afternoon. And it was more than enough for 2 very large people. But it had been made with incredible good energy.
Sometimes I see things moving from the corner of my eye, but when I look directly it's gone. I wonder what it is? It didn't happen before, just started recently a few weeks ago. Little curvy lines or something, like a yumma but not quite. Just a glimpse of something.
No more horrid dreams. I couldn't even remember last night's dreams. What's happening? Is Olive Holm still there? Olive? I just can't believe how tremendously emotional and overwhelming and life-fulfilling pregnancy is. It's not easy having kids, ya know. I thought they would simply come, arrive. Instead I am really tortured on a daily basis by thoughts of what happened last time - really too bloody to recount the whole thing. "It wasn't meant to be," everyone said. Yes but it still hurt tremendously and is causing heart-ache even now. July 19 was Bosco's due date. I just shouldn't think about it, but what else to do, sitting here alone?
I lost nausea today. I was happy, but also worried, the usual worries as it's only 9 weeks 4 days today. Too early to lose nausea I think. But what can one truly do in these matters? I do smell very fishy down there, the pregnancy smell I remember it from my first pregnancy when I was very young and fertile.
Now Olive is swimming happily in her ocean unaware that she is something separate from me, a little pit of a girl. Lately I imagine her in her teenage youth, long and limber and goofy like her parents. A substantial wisp of a woman - both solid like an Olive, and with a taste so unique, indescribably wonderful.
Then I imagine my mother's reaction to the name. Well, we won't tell her! That's it. "Aren't you going to raise her Muslim?!" she'll cry out in a desperate angry plea, her specialty. "No, mother, I will not inflict upon her the curse of what is now practised as Islam." On the other hand, I was positively jealous when I read of Sarah Gilbert's trips to the church. The community of the community. And faith is always something to be admired, prayerful faithful thankful blissful. What is that? So difficult for me now because I have no community in spirituality. Even the kundalinists seem false in their shared terminology - automated and group-thinking.
I'd like to start a mama community. I loved that Sarah Gilbert knit. I must start to knit too, or crochet or make something wonderful with my hands. Looking at my drawings, my patterns, I quite like them. I should have gone into textile design - if I was in Pakistan maybe I would have. I was even looking up practicing law in Pakistan today. I wondered how it would feel to defend human rights cases there, defend the women who are raped by their father-in-laws and rejected by their husbands. Well, first I'd have to make my fortune elsewhere.
I've been feeling terribly poor and afraid but then I did get a phone call and have an interview tomorrow. Now God is giving Aaron lots of financial success. I am so proud of him, supporting his family and friends and such. He is a model of virtuous success, built on creativity, brain power and heart. Then he goes and packs up our entire Miami house single-handedly in 2 days! I've given up flying for Olive. Now he's driving my car up to New York - yea. I am so happy. I have so much and nothing to complain about really.
I wonder what happened with the last interview - did they not like me? I thought I was good. I have to go with the utmost confidence. Is it my hair they did not like? Perhaps I'll wear a red shirt or jacket - yes! I have been having intermittent headaches. I'm not stressed anymore. I do feel very large, very large, because I ate so much today. I ordered from Kushie and a little Sikh boy in a turban came to my door, smiling in this silly way. I had to look in the mirror after he left - I looked good, if a little greasy-haired and pimply. The biryani was so moist and the makhani daal so delicious I simply couldn't stop eating and eating. I ate the entire thing over the course of the afternoon. And it was more than enough for 2 very large people. But it had been made with incredible good energy.
Sometimes I see things moving from the corner of my eye, but when I look directly it's gone. I wonder what it is? It didn't happen before, just started recently a few weeks ago. Little curvy lines or something, like a yumma but not quite. Just a glimpse of something.
No more horrid dreams. I couldn't even remember last night's dreams. What's happening? Is Olive Holm still there? Olive? I just can't believe how tremendously emotional and overwhelming and life-fulfilling pregnancy is. It's not easy having kids, ya know. I thought they would simply come, arrive. Instead I am really tortured on a daily basis by thoughts of what happened last time - really too bloody to recount the whole thing. "It wasn't meant to be," everyone said. Yes but it still hurt tremendously and is causing heart-ache even now. July 19 was Bosco's due date. I just shouldn't think about it, but what else to do, sitting here alone?
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