Wednesday, May 04, 2005

chapter two

I don't expect him to get right on this and begin handing out cigars, and while it might seem reasonable to set a time frame to begin doing so, it's not an option.

In all the years I've known him, I've taught him that I'm very lenient with time frames, and he's taught me that he isn't the King of Making the Right Time, rather, he waits for it to magically appear, and waiting makes me nervous. The nervous thing is my issue, which is why I've generally handled it with grace in the past. Now though, I'm a wee bit overwhelmed and am reticent to add even a micron of extra stress - and why add that stress when he won't meet the time constraints anyway?

I've noticed too, that I'm still looking after him. With the counsellor, when I think of him and even here, on my turf, I'm looking after how he feels, which is why I need this distance. Traditionally, I look after him and what he wants, and frankly if anyone is going to be involved, they need to want to look after us. That's not meant to sound as spoiled and brattish as it does, by the way, what I mean is, I don't want to have to look after all of us, not anymore, not like I usually do, and the only way I can see that happening is by staying well away.

I've got to say though, I can think of nothing worse than presenting a new sibling as a fait accompli, and for what it's worth, neither can the counsellor. We talked at length yesterday, about a lot of things, and appparently I'm coherent even when I'm irrational and hormonally insane, and the arguments I made - and the reasons I'm upset - about how the father sees this panning out, held water and made sense to her.

As an aside, she thinks I'm an extremely resilient young (young!) woman, whereas I think I'm losing my shit. I'm ashamed at how badly I'm handling this, and she thinks I'm handling it extremely well. I hope she's not blowing smoke up my arse.....

Being the rational and sane biznitch she says I am, his numbers are now blocked from my cell, (but not from my from my home phone because I'm a maroon and I don't know how to do it) not because I don't want him to call, but because I don't want to know he hasn't. And he won't, and I haven't opened my e-mail today, for the same reason.

I'll probably undo all that sometime soon in an attempt to quit acting like Princess Poopypants, and because I'm delusional and hope he's willing to bang down my door to get to us, even though I know he's not.

God, I'm pathetic.

I'd never have thought in a million years that such amazing news would precipitate my life turing into such a nightmare in such a short time.

So much for well laid plans, eh?

All this stress can't be good for the baby, and that stresses me out more, knowing I'm damaging my child because I can't control how I feel.

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