Man, why can't we just have one thing go as planned? I had this Thanksgiving planned where we would all be sitting around the kitchen table at my Dad's house saying what we were thankful for, and when it came my turn I'd say "Well, I'm thankful to be home, to have such an amazing family, and.... that MY WIFE IS PREGNANT!!" Insert gasps, an indecipherable buzz of chatter, more gasps, and declarations of "Really!?!" and "Congratulations" with tons of hugs for her and the inevitable arm punch from all the men, finally being "one of the boys." Ok, and maybe it'd be cool if someone said "Way to go, gang. Neeato!" and balloons dropped from the ceiling. Maybe I would have rented a clown, or pony or something. Nevermind the fact that she would have been showing by that point and it would have been abundantly obvious when we first arrived.
Daydreams. You think "How amazing is it going to be when my brothers and sisters are fighting over who gets to hold the baby?" and "What if we told your family while going door-to-door at Halloween?" And then? Something has got to go and mess it up for us. Really? I mean.... REALLY?! C'mon. Give this to us. Let us have ONE thing go our way. We really aren't asking for too much here. Ok, so her progesterone is super-duper low which means she has to be on "vaginal rest" or something, which basically means that she can't put anything remotely close to her pelvis. Knowing that having sex was probably the last thing on her mind anyway, particularly given the scares we've already endured and our irrational fears that breathing too heavy might do some damage to the fetus, that also means that I can't even....well, help her if she's getting... frustrated. I think she is worried that not being able to have intercourse will frustrate me or make me want to go get a special massage or something, which COULD NOT be further from the truth. I get it though. She's on eggshells. And so am I. I can't possibly imagine what it's like to be told "Because of who you are, you will always have high-risk pregnancies." In a way, that's what the doc said (though slightly nicer). So, fine. We can't have sex. She has to inject this horrible smelling tube of goo into her to keep her hormones at the proper level. That really sucks for her. Really, really sucks. But, okay. Let's do it because, well, we have to. But can't we at least tell people in the way we want? It seems so simple and basic. Are we being greedy?
We didn't wait to tell my Dad, and I'm kinda glad we didn't. Amidst her having to listen to librarians ramble on about the strangeness of natural child birth (fuck off, lady) and relatives that insist on blowing the surprise, I'm glad at least SOMEONE got to gush over her. But then, it really wasn't that fair for her. After putting her on speaker phone and having my folks hoot and holler and ask a million questions, she still asked later "So, what'd they say?" and "What happened after that?" So, really, she was still feeling a little left out I guess. She couldn't see their faces, so happy and glowing. She didn't see my father cry in front of me for the first time in... who knows. That kinda sucks. But at least someone was so happy for her and she got to hear it.
It's SOOOO hard not telling people. I feel like I'm going to open my mouth to breathe and it's just going to fall out of me like a mouthful of marbles. "Blrhaaabee..." Oh shit. But, I've done fairly well. Well, kinda well. Well, I've basically told everybody I've seen to help satisfy the urge to tell the rest of my family and hers. Hell, I've told completely random people, like clients at work that I have no relationship with whatsoever. I had a woman yesterday when she called to give me an update on her case say "Say hello to your wife for me!" "Umm... okay?" I didn't recall what this client looked like, or telling her. But, I obviously had.
Plus, I told the woman at the store, whose infant was staring at me, smiling and waving, that I was an expecting father. "Oh, congrats. C'mon honey." Um, okay, that was weird. I guess I expected something, her having just gone through it... more. Like, "Oh, it's so great!!" or "It's going to change your life!!" (in an exciting, good for you way). But, no. Maybe her husband is a real douchebag. Or maybe she just got knocked up, I thought. But, really, I feel like those moments should be for my wife anyway. This is her thing. She's carrying it, gets to feel all the amazing and horrible things inside of her (like "infertility" goo). I want her to have the most amazing nine months of her life, with confetti, and streamers, and laughter. But so far, I'm worried that she's feeling, well, left out. And now it looks like we won't even be able to tell her family the way we wanted. Total bullshit. Can something go her way? I really don't need anything or want anything. I'm just trying to be present and available. I mean, my life doesn't really have to change at all right now. I can go to the gym, I can smoke crack and jump on trampolines... but her? C'mon, universe, give her SOMEthing for God's sake.
I can't say that me going to Become a Catholic classes is not partially (primarily?) a selfish thing. Sure, I'm curious, and I'd like to learn a lot more about what's so important to G's family and upbringing, and I'm not unnecessarily opposed to religion like I once was because it was cool or the thing to do. But, am I making a deal with God that since we're (hopefully) getting what we want, I'll give Him or Her what S/He wants? Sure. What do I have to lose? The first meeting happened a couple days ago, and it was pretty laid back, and nothing major happened. I tried to make a joke on the way out while passing a busted up part of the church fence by saying "Oh I did that when I was saying 'I don't WANT to go to RCIA...." Dead silence. Okay, so wrong crowd. This isn't going to be a barrel of laughs or where I meet my new best friend. A small sacrifice on my part compared to what she has to do. Very small. Besides, I've struggled all my life with an identity. I play African drums for fuck sake. Talk about identity crisis. I'd love to be a family man with two healthy kids going to our neighborhood church. Well, I do already, except they won't let me eat the damn wafer. I know not to bite it, even. Saw it in a movie once. I was slightly embarassed to ask at the meeting "So... what is the liturgy?" but, you know, I have to ask a LOT of questions to catch up. I'm really completely in the dark about this whole thing. As a kid, church was some place where everyone's children went to a separate room and plaid cops and robbers. I know more about Buddhism than Catholicism, Christ, the Holy Trinity... really any aspect of Christianity at all. Who was Moses? I was slightly relieved to hear someone ask "So, what's the difference between a Christian and a Catholic?" Damn, even I know that.
Am I worried that it's the wrong motivation for going? Sure, but it sure seemed to start at a very opportune time (two weeks after finding out she was pregnant). So, I'll give it a go. G said it was okay that I didn't have to decide anything yet. I like that. I'm not Catholic yet, I don't know if I believe in God with a capital "G", I'm just... allowing for the possibility. It seems like the wise thing to do. If someone handed me a vile saying "This could save your life," would I refuse it because I didn't know what was in it? Hell no. I'd drink and ask questions later. So, I'm just... allowing for the possibility. That's what I can handle right now. But, you know what? I know I'm completely insignificant, and have definitely not lived a life that allows for me to have any say or sway over ANYthing you might do, but... if I'm going to do this thing, this whole Baptism thing in front of my whole new family and an ass-load of complete strangers... you gotta make a deal with me, okay God? Just let her have this ONE thing. Let her tell people in the way SHE wants. She's carrying our child in there. C'mon.
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