Voodoo Child v. 16: it doesn't have to be eternal to be immortal.

Friday. What a good day. Just overall. There was a sense of finality to this week that was most welcome, and I'm glad that I have some downtime to just do whatever I need to do. Which really isn't much.

I'm not going to lie; it's been stressful in little ways: the pregnancy, mom and dad coming and going and coming back again, work, change, the impending arrival of the Bambina. It came down to waking up one night at 4AM and lying there with feelings of dread as I ticked off things I needed to do at work. I lay awake for at least another hour forcing myself to acknowledge that this was probably not a normal thing to do. At 4AM.

Early on in the pregnancy, both myself and Husbandido had to meet with a therapist. It was nerve wracking to me (there was a 3AM staredown with the ceiling for a few nights) because I didn't know why I was scheduled for an appointment. Turns out this is a normal "thing." Just a check in with all expectant mothers. Routine. Holy shit, I thought I had to prepare for some bad news or what have you. But no. Just checking in.

After my gestational diabetes check in meeting a few weeks ago, I ran into the therapist again. She recognized me, and knowing how stressed I was, I went ahead and scheduled some time with her.

Now I know this is highly personal. Telling someone you're seeing a therapist is akin to telling people that a) you got some stuff going on you can't handle (don't bite my head off for this yet, wait for it), b) you are going through SOME STUFF you shouldn't be handling, or c) you're just a wreck in general. I know this. Least you forget, I have a master's in counseling. I know the risks that I'm taking by putting this out there for you to read, but I'm also taking the chance to tell you that I'm doing this to take care of myself, Bambina, my Husbandido and whoever else I may have an impact on. I'm also going on record with sharing this because, honestly, I wanted to encourage anyone else who may debate on doing a similar thing - seeing a therapist - to go ahead and do it. Do I have stuff going on? Of course I do. Do I need help? Who the hell doesn't? Can I handle it? I'm handling it. Now.

The good news is that I found someone who I really liked, and I like to think we have a good thing going. I've seen her twice now, and while it's not rocket science, it's easy to see that it's been helpful to spend an hour of someone's time venting/chatting/laughing through it all. Also, no lie, it's nice to see someone who has very similar and more advanced training than I do, do her job. I'm a nut like that.

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Anyways, pregnancy continues to move steadily ahead. Bambina is moving and grooving on a schedule now. That's kinda crazy, but I know when she's going to be moving around and fidgeting around. 31 weeks in, there are 67 days left to go. It's exciting, and I'm looking forward to the changes ahead, but I'm also keenly aware of how much things will have to change.

We've been toying around with the idea of moving out, but that's a long way off for us. The need for space has been a part of our daily life lately, especially with having to share, but what can we do? There's a part of me that says, "Why the hell did you go to graduate school on loans for?" I laugh at this, but that's a huge financial burden. Without it and my credit card bills (hey, I needed to go to europe, ok?), I could take care of a mortgage all by myself. Funny, isn't it? But yah, that's life.

Asides: Fast and Furious is a wierd movie. Husbandido actually said this: " I am never going to watch this movie...again. Six times is enough." Yet he still is watching it. Comedy.

Well, I'm going to go back to reading The Count of Monte Cristo. The unabridged version, bitches. Take that. Yes, I'm halfway through. LOL

Off to count kicks. 

Voodoo