rant.

one more week til we hit the six month mark. i can't believe how fast time is flying. starting to waddle, and your dad thinks it's pretty amusing. a common thing to hear at our house is, 'hey, Waddle." :)

over the weekend i experienced what normal must feel like. for the first time in quite a while i was relatively anxiety-free. i wasn't worried about who from home is angry or hurt by me not keeping in better touch, i wasn't worried about what your papa might be thinking of me, i wasn't worried about if the people i work with think i am a good enough 'Christian'or if i was failing miserably at my job. i wasn't even really worried about diabetes and money and how everything has panned out with healthcare here. (all the things that normally plague my mind.) i felt content. no bitterness, no envy. no restlessness.

today, little dearie, is another story. today is a special kinda day. the kind of day where every crying three year old and every ounce of spilled glue makes me feel more and more like a pot that is about to boil over. it feels like every nerve is exposed and everything that brushes against me could make me come undone. since this raw on edge-ness is probably just 'hormones', i want it to feel as simplified as that word. 'hormones' is a euphemism for "you think you are surely losing your mind, but the reality which you cannot possibly see, and which will not make you feel any better whatsoever, is that you are not."

when you are a foreigner living in china and you are pregnant, EVERY SINGLE person feels it is their duty to point out what you are obviously not aware of: you are pregnant. being pregnant at home probably makes a woman the target of lots and lots of unwarranted advice too, but HERE the culture difference literally makes you appear to be doing EVERYTHING wrong.

i, for example, should not be:
drinking cold water
swimming
running
walking swiftly
wearing tank tops
eating spicy food
eating watermelon
eating candy
standing in front of an air conditioner
eating so much
eating so little
eating anything fried
taking any sort of medicine whatsoever
wearing makeup
wearing earrings
wearing belts
wearing form fitting clothing
laying on my side
laying on my back
laying on my stomach
carrying anything
putting any pressure on my belly (sometimes i poke ya bc i want you to move)
using the computer
watching certain movies
watching television
standing directly in the sun
administering insulin directly into my belly
raising my hands above my head

also:
my belly should be much bigger by now,
my booty should be much smaller.

i know it comes from a good place. i know it does. i know it is not meant to offend and overwhelm me. but the 'hormones' combined with the constant comments on my physique and on my appetite or lack of is driving.me.crazy.

all this and a lack of actual contact with an actual doctor who cares about anything i have to say or am actually feeling in my actual body is driving me to the edge. i'm not stupid-- and most of the time, somewhere in my head, i know it's not entirely that personal.

i am also not neglectful; i live on the other side of the world and have a whole life going on here and i am busy being mine and my baby's own doctor. i am married. i am working full time with preschoolers. i am PREGNANT. i am TIRED. i don't do well with guilt. not lately, anyways. i don't want a guilt trip. i want a care package. or an acknowledgement of how well we have done adjusting to foreign life and marriage and pregnancy and new jobs and just making due without some essential medical things we have needed. i don't want ill timed advice. i do, sort of a lot today, want to scream.

i get to go home in 33 days, and then i will eat cottage cheese and peaches and whole wheat bagels with natural peanut butter and sunbathe and have all my medical supplies FINALLY, to my heart's content.

and that, little baby, was your first exposure to a rant.