On the illusion of control
It's been a difficult summer. Lots of changes taking place that I can't control. It makes me think about the things I can control, and then realize that I can't control those either.
The pregnancy is going well. So well, in fact, that I can't resist a paranoid sense that if I feel this normal, something must be wrong with the baby. Or something will go wrong with delivery. I'm trying to ignore those thoughts. I have to get a new prenatal caregiver because I fired my last one. She became obsessed with me being "diabetic" (I'm not) and wanted me to do a bunch of things that wouldn't be good for me or the baby. I had world-class diabetes researchers contact her to advise against her treatment plan, so she relegated me to high-risk care with dire warnings about the long-term risks to my baby if I chose any path but hers. Even though I think she's completely unqualified to say that to me, I can't get her attitude out of my head. I hope my next care provider can help me get back to a confident place about the pregnancy, birth, and baby.
We're trying to sell our house. In early spring, Nick and I took stock of our lives and concluded that living here is a huge source of stress that can (sort of) easily be eliminated. Moving closer to my family would take a lot of pressure off of all of us and make it easier to see each other and make flexibly plans. So we worked like crazy to get the house ready to list in May. And then we were under contract in less than a week! And then we found a house we LOVE in my sister's neighborhood and we made an offer and they accepted it! And then, our buyers backed out. That was two weeks ago. We have until Saturday to get back under contract for our sale, otherwise the house we want goes back on the market. So far, we haven't had any new offers. We keep the place showing-ready which means we can't exactly LIVE here. We stay here, but we rarely cook, don't get out lots of toys or books, don't make any messes. Each new showing request reboots a cycle of hope and disappointment. And each apparent accomplishment, like having a buyer express interest, just triggers the anxiety for the next step in the process. They're interested - are they going to make an offer? We're under contract - will the appraisal go well? We passed the appraisal, how about inspection? And eventually, will we close? And that's just on the selling side. The mirror-image milestones await us on the buying side, with deadlines and potential dealbreakers around every corner.
And, my mom just got diagnosed with cancer. It's bladder cancer, which is good as cancers go. And it was caught early, which is also good. But it's still cancer, which is awful. She had to have surgery just for them to be able to tell us her prognosis. We waited for days for the phone call telling us the results of the pathology report. We didn't know if this would be the equivalent of having a mole removed, no further action required, or if this was a death sentence. The results were relatively good. Mom should be ok. But we have a ways to go before we can breathe completely easy again.
And I have a toddler.
So I've just been treading water, trying to bend the universe to my will through such measures as constantly checking my phone for news about the house, becoming an expert in bladder cancer, and holding my hand over my womb and trying to send good vibes to the baby. I fill my days with responsible tasks, asking the world of myself in hopes that if I do enough, I'll be rewarded. It's not logical, it's not effective, it just burns my energy and leaves me irritable and short-tempered. So I try to let go, try to focus on doing things that make me and my family happy, because that's all I can guarantee myself, and it's the only thing really worth doing. It's a really hard lesson to learn, though.