2013 Review, 2014 Adventures

It's Sunday afternoon. The husband is at the Bengals playoff game. Laundry is going. I really need to shake out the tablecloth in the kitchen, which I've been procrastinating from for no good reason. And it's 2014. We're on countdown- 35 days (more or less) until the due date: Baby laundry half done. Cloth diapers in the process of being prepped (so many washes for those damn organic/natural material ones!). People have told me I will start "nesting," and I suppose these activities are "nesting" but for some reason I don't love the term. It sounds so gendered and 50's housewife-esque. All this work is pretty practical preparation for what's to come, and hopefully will make the first few months less insane and stressful.

I'm trying to keep nervousness at bay about labor, and of course the fact that in a short period of time, we're going to be wholly responsible for a new little life. This year is going to be full of new things: parenthood, husband's new job in April, new responsibilities at work, and getting healthcare through the government exchange! I'll keep you posted on how that goes.

The weather so far has not been dropping to subzero temperatures and snowing as predicted. I will never cease to be amused at how people in Cincinnati flood and pillage the grocery stores at the sign of some snow (and ransack the milk aisle, of all things). The likelihood of being snowed or iced in for more than 24-48 hours is so slim here it's laughable, and I promise you, if that did happen, you won't be kicking yourself for not having milk. 

2013 Review: high and lowlights, lessons learned- in List Style, of course:

• Baby miscarriage to start off the year. Hard to believe an entire year has passed. A lesson in grief, loss, keeping faith, and awareness of a hardship that happens to so many mommas.
• Job promotion of sorts.
• Had some actual juvenile cases, and went to trial (and won!).
• Chairing a committee for the local bar association Young Lawyers Section- after pulling back from leadership for a while, I'm back in, for better or for worse.
• Volunteering at the long awaited Citylink Center. 
• Growing baby J. Pregnancy is a weird experience. You have a little alien growing inside of you. Everything feels uncomfortable. You have pregnancy brain (it's a real thing.) Your body stretches more than you thought it ever could. People feel free to talk about your body without invitation. I am not one of those mothers who love pregnancy, and am quite okay with that.
• Finding out my little brother's baby will be due just a month after baby J!
• Two wonderful trips to Colorado (minus the part where we spent 30 some hours between airports). Second trip, baby J came with us, so she's been hiking, already! Hope she'll love outdoors and hiking as much as mom and dad.
• DOMA mostly struck down! Hurray for love!

Checking in- Third Trimester (Already?)

After a prolonged summer and strange short fall, winter seems to be creeping in stealthily and rapidly. I can't tell if the sniffling haze my head is in is a continuation of allergies or if I'm finally, truly, succumbing to a cold. I suppose I will find out soon. Our due date is also rapidly approaching, if not quite stealthily since it seems every day I am newly surprised at how much further my stomach can stretch. The books and online baby websites tell me I have some 4-6 pounds of baby growth to go, though I can't currently even imagine this. 

When February comes, it will just be a little over a year after the loss of the first little friend I had growing inside of me. I've been incredibly blessed so far this time around with a relatively easy pregnancy, though it's still been a constant fight to balance caution and self-care with rampant paranoia and fear. The amount of potential problems and dangers in pregnancy that can be discovered on the internet is endless and ridiculous. Some days it's hard to keep faith that just because things went badly once, that they wouldn't go badly again, and also hard to comprehend how even more devastating it could be if things went badly this time. I just had a really bizarre week of crazy dry eye and a tiny possible case of the shingles?? 

Most days, though, I try to live in the now- things are good, I am healthy, the baby is healthy and kicking, and it's all gone by so very fast. It's been interesting to go through the pregnancy experience, with unexpected (or totally expected) feelings about my changing body, and things I can't do or eat or drink. The nearing holidays herald my last trimester, and for me and this baby girl, I'm committing to taking a step back from the usual stressors of gifts, shopping, and family, and just trying to focus on gratitude.

Generally, when people ask me if this is my first, I say yes. While technically this is my second pregnancy but my first child, who really wants to know that backstory? At the same time, I feel torn because I want more people to know about how common and difficult pregnancy loss is. I want them to know that even though I am having a fairly breezy pregnancy, it came after a really hard time. I want other women who are trying or have gone through pregnancy loss to know that it's not just them, and all those awful ugly emotions you go through happen to a lot of us. So, for all of you, I wanted to share this great blog post (that has links to a few other great posts): http://www.lipstickandpolitics.com/lipstick/why-cant-we-talk-about-miscarriage. I'm thinking of you.

This Shouldn't Happen in the United States

The Atlantic posted this article two days ago: "Half a Life In Solitary: How Colorado Made a Young Man Insane." It's a seriously sobering look at one of the most inhumane practices we have in our country, and heartbreaking to see how mentally ill this person has become. What's the point? Why are we doing this?

The Wasted Privilege of Voting

Let me confess this first: I used to be apathetic and only voted for presidential elections. In the past few years, I've "grown up" about this important right. When I read news from around the world and see how people in other countries so cherish the right to vote and struggle for it, it almost feels like a moral duty to exercise my right to vote. 

This year, the city of Cincinnati experienced an extremely low voter turn out, with the approximate turn out rate of about 30%. Even worse, I'm convinced that informed and intelligent people are not the majority of those who show up at the polls. I'm concerned about us, America. All of us. Let me tell you why by describing my voting experience this year, even though this only touches the tip of the iceberg. 

Since we now live outside of the Cincinnati city limits, I sadly was not able to vote on city issues, but I can tell you about voting in a small "village" in Hamilton County. I was supposed to choose 4 village council members and some board of elections members. I got two fliers from candidates on the council that said essentially nothing substantial about what their vision was for our village prior to elections. One of the candidates came by in person with his wife and talked to my husband. I looked up every person on the ballot online and could not find any information about who I was voting for, except for one person on Facebook. When I went to the polls, two other candidates gave me their cards, which also said nothing substantial. 

I know this is a tiny example, but how is it that there is an expectation of voting blindly? I can't vote for people to represent me when I don't know who they are and what is important to them. But people do that every election. People need to care and demand that they are informed. 

Larger example: The big battle in the mayoral race for Cincinnati was over the Cincinnati Streetcar. There are claims that it would be worth it to deal with all the litigation costs of backing out of all the contracts already in place for a project that has already started construction, and that somehow this would be cheaper and better. There have been no real numbers to prove this, but people voted based on a candidate's position on the streetcar anyway (but only about 30% of the city voters). Now our mayor elect wants to scrap a project that is in line with all the up and coming cities across the country. That could be a whole long rant, but I don't want to ruin my Friday.

Shouldn't we want more- demand more? Doesn't the precious right to vote deserve more thought?

Silence

“When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.”
― Ansel Adams

I've been driving to and from work largely in silence, lately. There are too many words and clutter and it really gets hard to see clearly sometimes. Too much about the ridiculous government shutdown. Talking points, talking points, talking points. No substance. 

Maybe it'd be more bearable if I haven't also been bombarded by a host of family issues. It's easy to retreat into my own little life here in Cincinnati, where the world still feels like my oyster, and it's for the most part, drama free. Unfortunately, the box of crazy that my mother has managed to open up following my dad's death over 10 years ago has been unrelentingly progressing down a course of total calamity. Dramatic words, I know, but you wouldn't quite believe me if I told you. And I've heard some crazy and sad stories in my line of work. One day I'm going to write a book about it.

If you have family members or other loved ones that are constantly in crisis, sometimes it feels like a boulder from which you'll never quite be able to extricate all your limbs. It's a lifetime of practice to be able to separate yourself from the smothering hopelessness to preserve yourself. It is a lot of work.

So, I've been driving in silence to drown it out. I tried something different this week. I committed to lighting a candle each day and just praying for my family. Nothing huge or crazy, but it was something more than what I've really done before. No harm to it, really, when it seems like there's nothing else to try. Some really great friends even fasted a day for me. *Somehow the rest of this post didn't get saved! Redo*. That same day, I got connected with a great resource and some referrals for my mom and sister. Nice.

Trying to savor the time I have for silence- I know there might not be a lot in the months to come, but I hope can can hold on to the memory of the peaceful nothingness, at the very least.