On Learning to Share the Tough Stuff
Would you like to know a secret?
I am not very good at sharing. Sure I can share food and drinks with you - and I'm fairly certain that after six years Toff has finally figured out that he will never be able to order food without me asking him to share a bite. It's the non-tangible, something-bad-has-happened stuff that I am just no good at sharing. You see, I simply don't like being sad or mad or upset. I prefer to be happy. I truly believe the quote, "happiness is a conscious choice, not an immediate action." I prefer to deal with my s**t in my own time, and let it melt off me when I'm with others when I can just absorb their energy and use it to make me happy again. Please don't think that it is because I don't want to share, or that I don't trust you enough with my personal issues, it is simply how I find best to deal with things. I have to let things wash over me and roll right off. I cannot possibly hold on to them enough to examine and discuss them with someone else, if I do this, I feel that it will drag me under. And then I don't get to be happy.
But I made a mistake.
Do you know what it's like to be pregnant? To have everyone in the entire world suddenly interested in your body and your diet and the choices that you are making from everything on how you're planning on getting the baby out of your body to how you're planning on feeding them once they are? It can be overwhelming and frustrating and 9 months of TMI and boundary pushing from complete strangers. So can you guess how I deal with this? I let it wash over me and roll right off. I take all that interest as compliments and allow them to touch my belly because it's fun to be carrying something with you that makes so many people so happy and excited.
And all of that information they give you on what you can do and what you can't eat and what you should be doing instead, I just pick and choose the bits that I am going to be concerned about. It is a coping mechanism because there is no WAY that it is humanly possible to do everything right according to every person and every doctor in the world. This is because we are STILL figuring pregnancy out. There are over 7 billion people on this earth, ALL of whom had to be born in one way or another, and we are still trying to figure out the best way to bring them into this world safely.
But back to me, and my mistake. Last time I was pregnant I happily declared that I would gladly remain pregnant forever if I could just eat soft cheese and raw oysters. Oh how I missed those two luxuries! So imagine my excitement this time around, when I learned that you can eat soft cheese when you're pregnant, so long as it pasteurized. Oh happy day! I do love a good brie. So I learned to always check labels on cheeses, and if it didn't specifically say "pasteurized" or the label was gone, I simply wouldn't eat it.
And then yesterday, someone at work shared a news story she had heard the day before. Two deaths caused by listeria were linked to a cheese company in Victory. Two deaths and a miscarriage. And I know for a fact that I have used this specific cheese in my turkey and cranberry sandwiches I have been making for the bakery. And I know for a fact that I ate some. And I know now, also for a fact, that soft cheese is NOT safe to eat when you are pregnant, because contamination by listeria can occur after pasteurization.
Oh. Shit.
On Monday I am going in for a blood test, which will hopefully tell me that I have nothing to worry about. Or, it will tell me that by one choice I made, I could have put my little baby's life at risk. Not my life. But the baby's. The baby that so happily moves inside of me and kicks my tummy and has apparently just this week developed eye lashes. And that is because of one specific choice I made. And I am trying not to beat myself up about it, because as parents, you can never do everything the "right" way. For starters, no one knows what the right way is. And even if there were, I don't think I would want to live that way. It sounds exhausting.
That's all for now, thank you for listening.
Cara
I am not very good at sharing. Sure I can share food and drinks with you - and I'm fairly certain that after six years Toff has finally figured out that he will never be able to order food without me asking him to share a bite. It's the non-tangible, something-bad-has-happened stuff that I am just no good at sharing. You see, I simply don't like being sad or mad or upset. I prefer to be happy. I truly believe the quote, "happiness is a conscious choice, not an immediate action." I prefer to deal with my s**t in my own time, and let it melt off me when I'm with others when I can just absorb their energy and use it to make me happy again. Please don't think that it is because I don't want to share, or that I don't trust you enough with my personal issues, it is simply how I find best to deal with things. I have to let things wash over me and roll right off. I cannot possibly hold on to them enough to examine and discuss them with someone else, if I do this, I feel that it will drag me under. And then I don't get to be happy.
But I made a mistake.
Do you know what it's like to be pregnant? To have everyone in the entire world suddenly interested in your body and your diet and the choices that you are making from everything on how you're planning on getting the baby out of your body to how you're planning on feeding them once they are? It can be overwhelming and frustrating and 9 months of TMI and boundary pushing from complete strangers. So can you guess how I deal with this? I let it wash over me and roll right off. I take all that interest as compliments and allow them to touch my belly because it's fun to be carrying something with you that makes so many people so happy and excited.
And all of that information they give you on what you can do and what you can't eat and what you should be doing instead, I just pick and choose the bits that I am going to be concerned about. It is a coping mechanism because there is no WAY that it is humanly possible to do everything right according to every person and every doctor in the world. This is because we are STILL figuring pregnancy out. There are over 7 billion people on this earth, ALL of whom had to be born in one way or another, and we are still trying to figure out the best way to bring them into this world safely.
But back to me, and my mistake. Last time I was pregnant I happily declared that I would gladly remain pregnant forever if I could just eat soft cheese and raw oysters. Oh how I missed those two luxuries! So imagine my excitement this time around, when I learned that you can eat soft cheese when you're pregnant, so long as it pasteurized. Oh happy day! I do love a good brie. So I learned to always check labels on cheeses, and if it didn't specifically say "pasteurized" or the label was gone, I simply wouldn't eat it.
And then yesterday, someone at work shared a news story she had heard the day before. Two deaths caused by listeria were linked to a cheese company in Victory. Two deaths and a miscarriage. And I know for a fact that I have used this specific cheese in my turkey and cranberry sandwiches I have been making for the bakery. And I know for a fact that I ate some. And I know now, also for a fact, that soft cheese is NOT safe to eat when you are pregnant, because contamination by listeria can occur after pasteurization.
Oh. Shit.
On Monday I am going in for a blood test, which will hopefully tell me that I have nothing to worry about. Or, it will tell me that by one choice I made, I could have put my little baby's life at risk. Not my life. But the baby's. The baby that so happily moves inside of me and kicks my tummy and has apparently just this week developed eye lashes. And that is because of one specific choice I made. And I am trying not to beat myself up about it, because as parents, you can never do everything the "right" way. For starters, no one knows what the right way is. And even if there were, I don't think I would want to live that way. It sounds exhausting.
That's all for now, thank you for listening.
Cara
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