Today's focalpoint was trip to the ob/gyn, around which Sonja's feedings and naps and Greg's completely insane work situation had to be scheduled. In retrospect, the way things escalated was almost comical, climaxing with my sitting half-naked and sobbing in the little examination cubicle while Dr. Bock and Greg unknowingly raced each other to my side. Greg arrived first, Sonja in tow, she apparently unaware that she was supposed to be hysterical with hunger. I had rushed to drop baby with Greg at work after a hurried, incomplete nursing, and then sat for an hour and a half in the waiting room. In the meantime, the precious reserve of expressed milk that I had brought, frozen, for Greg to thaw and use only in case of extreme duress, was unuseable because I had forgotten to pack the lid for the bottle. Greg was on a timetable too, having to re-transfer baby back to me at a rapidly approaching hour, and so there I sat in the packed waiting area hissing into my cellphone, "just BRING her to me!" Is it possible to breastfeed during a pap-smear? Oh my god. So as it turned out I was able to rush Dr. Bock through the fastest exam in history and get Sonja home ALMOST before she lost her composure. The one cool thing about this experience is that my hormonal blubbering brought out a side of the doctors and staff at Myrtle St OB/GYN that I had never seen: everyone smiled and busted out heartbreaking, human stories of their own equivilant experiences. I think the psychological support they gave me today was more impressive than anything medical they have ever provided to me.
In other news, things are happening with the house. I'm now obsessed with interior paint colors.
Our second offer on the house that we want has been accepted three weeks after an initial, indignant refusal. This afternoon we're going to re-sign and submit the paperwork and get the ball rolling. It's a bit uncomfortable knowing that the owners are grouchy about the sale, but whatever, it's a recession! We're going to be soooooo broke, but baby Sonja needs a nursery, a back yard, and a neighborhood. It feels like an incredibly huge responsibility to choose our child's environment for the duration of her youth. What if there are no nice kids on the block? What if a psycho lives next door? What if there is some unforseen danger inherent to this specific house? What if Ballston Spa turns out to be more WT than quaint, as I'm beginning to suspect? We're just going to have to close our eyes and jump. The music has stopped and this is the empty chair. I'm out of metaphors.
Ever since we moved from Albany to Round Lake I've been amazed by the progression of wildflowers and foliage along the roads and in the fields up here. My favorite thing is the diaphanous purple grass that shows up in mid-August. I want to take a picture of Sonja in front of it before it's gone because her fuzzy blonde hair is so remarkably similar to it's texture! When I do, maybe my techology liason (husband) can show me how to upload a photo onto this thing
Well, I kept a pretty tight journal throughout my pregnancy. I wrote down every prophetic, terror-purging dream and detail of my deranged libido (my WHAT?) for the eventual perusal of my cringeing daughter. But as I slammed the book on my note that my water seemed to have broken, so ended any inclination toward any such indulgence. Since Sonja's birth I can barely find time to bathe or sleep, or work, or see my friends, or return phone calls or emails, or keep track of the date, or keep up on what's on the radio (or house music) let alone write in a journal. However, I have spent countless, endless, shameful hours in front of the computer screen while nursing the baby. Every 2.5 hours I stumble to the couch, assemble a pile of Boppy and baby and pop open the laptop. Blogs are really society to me at this strange point in my life -- I come in direct contact with so few real people, and when I do, they see the baby only (thank goodness, because I'm surely a mess at any given moment). So I'm restarting my journal and rejoining society in a small, weird way with my own damn blog.