I'm feeling optimistic at the moment, though I've been all over the place. My brother and his girlfriend are staying in my apartment so I'm staying at D's place, half of an old, roomy run-down house his father inherited from his late grandmother, nestled behind the building behind the YMCA that burnt down last New Year's. They're building something new there which seems appropriate, but no one is doing any work on the house D lives in, though the ceiling is rotting and there are piles of junk throughout. I trip on instruments on my way upstairs and wonder aloud why I was ever jealous. Still. It's a shitty, vaguely malodorous abode, but it is not D., and certainly hasn't taken anything from him (he doesn't pay rent, and has plenty of space for musical instruments for practicing and jamming), and as much as it seems like an extension of him, at times, in my frustration: that may be largely an illusion, or a matter of perspective (perspective being itself an illusion, mostly. So why I write these blogs, I do not know.)
I told my brother, Zach, about my pregnancy. He and his girlfriend were eating cereal in my kitchen when I walked in with coffee around 11:30 (D & I actually had some 'grown up' affection, which may be distasteful to mention, but has become a bit awkward, mostly because of me, who generally burns pretty high.*) I had been invited to an appointment at the social security office regarding my ssi and called to cancel but ended up having a phone interview with Ms. Leonard which lasted almost half an hour. I was on hold with the office while I told Z and his girlfriend sort of with implications (it's not been hard for anyone to guess) which I affirmed. He got visibly ecstatic and while I answered questions about where I live and whether I'd been in trouble with the law ("Good girl," Ms. Leonard said) and whatnot (I'm not really sure why it took so long, though I was rather distracted throughout) he and his girlfriend discussed whether or not they would adopt the child if necessary.
When I got off the phone, Z announced that they'd be perfectly willing to raise the child, "If I was planning on giving it away anyway." Lest you think he is some sort of asshole (he assuredly is not), he told me he hoped I would choose to parent, and that I'd be a good mom.
It's good just to know that one has a safety net. I think- as I was trying in my last post to frame in the context of 'existentialism,' a school of philosophy I know little about aside from my "Sartre for Beginners" comic book - that fulfilling obligations is easier when one realizes that they are always, fundamentally, a choice.
And then Z told me he'd bought A. - his girlfriend, a well-built, gorgeous girl with deep green eyes and lush lashes, short curly dark hair and smooth, rosy skin, little pearly front teeth and a frequent smile, and very shy, and meek, and born & raised in Kentucky, getting her B.A. in the Classics, minor in Philosophy this spring, after only three years- an engagement ring, which she'd picked out. So things are moving along in the lives of my parents' children.
*So D & I have, over the years, had a stormy, off and on, but very libidinous dynamic. It is true that when we move towards more commitment, I tend to cool towards him sexually. I have borderline personality disorder, as he pointed out not-so-tactfully last night when I was digging into him for both real & imagined shortcomings. It seems so hopeless, sometimes. That's why it's good to have support, to have other people. We cannot be everything to each other and I imagine the blossoming little one - despite certain biological partialities - likes to be around a room full of voices, to hear laughter and different threads of conversation. Upstairs in my mom's apartment last night, I stole the show, causing my brother and his girlfriend to spit liquid drinks out and nearly hyperventilate, with laughter. It was than that it struck me that nothing could change who I, fundamentally, was: and this is part of why I feel more optimistic today.
J had said I was getting more coherent lately, but this entry cannot a reflection of that. There are too many directions I want to take at once, too many things I wish to explore. And I am rushed, since D, my brother, my brother's gf, my mom and her boyfriend are visiting upstairs and soon D and I are going to his place for the night. I was going to write earlier but had a great urge to walk, and walked for over an hour, this certain loop which I have a feeling will be a routine for awhile. I think as long as I can walk I will be happy. And hopefully I can extend that, and think more like this:
"If you desire to be a dear and well-beloved friend of Christ, drink effectively with Him a draft of the chalice of His tribulation . As for consolations, commit them to His will so that He may ordain them as He knows most expedient for you. But as for yourself, as much as lies in your power, dispose yourself to suffer, and when tribulations come, take them as special consolations..." (p. 97, "The Imitation of Christ," by Thomas a Kempis)
*
Seriously, though. No situation is perfect. Z encouraged me to be open to a variety of arrangements, to be willing to accept D as a stay-at-home Dad, if that was how it needed to be, for awhile. He said it would be simpler and better if we can make it work together, which I'm sure is true. I genuinely enjoy D's company on some level, though it's easy to forget when we aren't getting along. I suppose I'm afraid of not being independent, though true commitment can't be at odds with anything else, because when it's really about committing, and not just codependent greed (which of course is probably 90 percent of what this is steeped in, but that doesn't mean we can't move toward something better, change the tide / momentum of our choices), how can that be wrong? I'm afraid though, because my North Node is in Aries, which probably means little to most people. A person's North Node represents what they are aspiring to in our life, and is in the sign opposite to their South Node, which represents past lives / karma, and what we struggle to rise above, mine being Libra. Libra emphasizes balance and partnerships to the extent of loss of identity and personal goals. Aries emphasizes independence, initiative, and drive. This makes me worry that there's no way I could start a little family at 23, which means I'm either going to have to choose adoption - which some say is much worse than abortion, though I'm not convinced it could not be a beautiful and even redemptive act - or single parenthood, or some sort of innovative arrangement (though, to be fair, increasingly - what's the word? I'll just say normal, it's more normal because the nuclear family is less so; these hormones, I'll blame them, I really am not as sharp, though it is good to keep communicating, cracking jokes, and power-walking to the Cure). But is that more superstition? Can I not have both? I really don't know, and perhaps the power of faith, and imagining beautiful compromises (isn't there a better word? a word that doesn't imply "giving in"?), are really quite important.
Yes but whenever I start to feel overwhelmed, I try to remember, I try to compare in a way that leads not to misery, but gratitude. First of all, the big Kahuna: I could be dead. Secondly, lifetime institutionalism. Paralysis. Mental illness so severe I could not relate or communicate. Living in a culture that allowed women little to no freedom.
So, not my best writing to date, but still things worth thinking about. I'm hoping that I will rise to the challenge of having a child, whether or not I decide I'm fit to raise it. I hope D & I can either learn to thrive together or part in kindness. We're no better or worse than anyone else, and couples take many different courses. There is much I like in the idea of having a child young, and always have, and nothing can ever be exactly as I'd tailor it because I can't control other people or even, all the time, ( perhaps this is controversial, but I think it is true) myself. Nobody really needs to say anything cruel - and thank God, no one has - because I've thought it all myself. It's pathetic, it's white trash, I'm a wreck so why should I ruin someone elses life, I will never advance academically / professionally, D and I will not miraculously get along - since children, obviously, add stress, not take away. But I've been surrounded by people all day, some who know about the little one, and some who don't. I do have support, and the support itself is so poignant sometimes it makes me want to cry. E, my ex boyfriend, came to dinner at Lucky Garden's tonight with a girl friend of his and sat with our big, mixed party, which was a bit awkward because we were sitting at a long table, and expecting buffet, and there was no buffet. Do you know what he did? He sat next to D, gave us some of his orange chicken, and offered D work, smoked him up a little after, and practically begged him to "jam" with him. I thought my heart would break, and after, walking up the hill listening to Pavement, I started to cry, realizing that people really do, come into our lives for certain time periods, and then their prominence fades, but I will never forget how he slept in my hospital room, did anything to make me laugh, and got a spare wheelchair when I was in and used to ride around Richmond with me that summer after I got shot and lilacs took over the world. I can't marry everyone and who knows why we go this way or that way? Perhaps choosing a man who is a bit insecure and has it less together, in many ways, or is a lot less of a strong, bold personality than E, is sort of a way of being independent.
And of course D can nurture, even though he is weak and immature in many ways. Last night, after his borderline personality comment, and he went out for a cigarette (we always go to sleep at the same time every night. this will most likely have to change and is a little weird, but just seems to work out), I started bawling hysterically. I wanted nothing to do with him and was sobbing in choking gasps, like a little baby myself. He came back into bed and wrapped his arms around me and patted me and rubbed my back for a long time, and we didn't say anything the rest of the night, just looked at each other in the streetlights from the window. I woke up a couple times in the night and asked him to rearrange the blankets or get me some water. I take these liberties and I don't feel bad about it. I'm carrying his child and I deserve to be pampered. When we're getting along, he responds warmly and instinctively to this. In the morning the heaviness had lifted. He woke up awhile before me (not sure how much) and came in around ten (he said just now, he just came in and started washing his hands, we're at my apt., it was around 8:30), and when I saw him I was pretty happy. It's really not so bad.
Plus perhaps having a child will really help me prioritize. It's not like I spend hours each day writing anyway. Gretel Erlich, a nonfiction writer I really love, worked hard farming in Wyoming and went days without writing. There is something to be said for accumulating material. Gertrude Stein it was I believe who said genius comes from a lot of doing nothing. I've had a lot of doing nothing time. I may never be a genius, but though caring for a child is difficult, it is not, perhaps, intricate and intellectually demanding in the way that some doing somethings are. And no one is ever truly doing "nothing," anyway. I still worry, a lot, about the Aries North Node, and dampened luminosity. A little about the elasticity of my breasts and the fullness of my hair. A little about the pain, and a lot about the sleepless early years. It was curiosity which got me here though. I wanted to be initiated into whatever this not-at-all unique transition.
