The barista asked, \”How\’s it going?\” and I chirpily replied, \”All right, thanks!\”
I\’ve been telling lies for two weeks.
You see, I inherited my granddad\’s ears, my dad\’s eyes, my mum\’s eyebrows, and the stiff upper lip that is unintentionally passed down to every Englishman and woman. That stiff upper lip has made it almost impossible to honestly divulge how I\’m feeling in times when I probably most need to. I try to be positive or, at the very least, neutral because I fear that others will quickly tire of someone who is anything else. It\’s strange; I don\’t mind at all when friends have ups and downs. I recognize that sometimes things simply feel a little off, and I\’ve always appreciated being sought for a listening ear. When something feels a little off in myself, though, I try to hide it out of sight.
Last year, my writing teacher emphasized the importance of being a dependable narrator by being honest. Tonight, I\’m giving it a try.
Everything is not all right.
Life is, in general, very, very good…but I\’m not feeling all right inside.
Inside, I feel irritable and melancholy. I feel like crying, but the tears don\’t come. I smile in public when all I really want to do is get away from everyone and pull the covers over my head. I have no patience for my puppy\’s puppy-like behavior, and when my toddler bursts into tears for no apparent reason, I want to sink to the floor and do the same. The trouble is, life depends on me for far too much for that to be a reasonable response.
This feeling could be the result of my elevated progesterone levels due to the weekly injections I\’m getting or my low iron levels due to being a pregnant vegetarian. I suspect it\’s a combination of both. The good news is that neither is permanent. The bad news is that although the end is in sight, it\’s on the distant horizon. The double iron supplements I\’m now taking will most likely yield a positive change in about two weeks; I have six more weeks of injections to go.
The injections may be superfluous, but they may not. They\’re a necessary precaution to give Baby the chance to stay safely inside until 40 weeks. For that reason, I\’m willing to endure an emotional roller coaster with more drastic dips than the average pregnancy. It seems so unfair, though. I loved every moment of my first pregnancy. I was so amazingly happy knowing that my body was capable of helping a new little person come to be. I loved my changing shape and each kick I felt. I\’m just as amazed this time around, but there\’s a shadow hanging over me because I\’m so exhausted by the emotions I\’m feeling.
I don\’t want it to be a lie when I reply, \”All right, thanks!\” I want to love every moment because the moments are so fleeting. I want to glow from the inside again.
To Palimpsest 