Under My Skin

Three things:

1. The murder of that doctor in Kansas, George Tiller. I can't stop reading about it (Salon.com has several fantastic columns), and I am thinking about it constantly. Recently, a friend of mine told me that she was pregnant several years ago. She found out the baby had some kind of horrible genetic disorder when she was 5 months along. She had to have it terminated because the baby wouldn't have made it to term. If it had, it would have lived a few days, tops. She was heartbroken. She wanted that child. And she still had to pass through a gauntlet of protesters calling her a baby killer on her way to do the deed.

I'm 37. I'm nervous about getting pregnant at my age. You generally don't find out something is really wrong until you're in your second trimester. And the more I read about this guy, how he worked in one of three offices in the country that perform late-term abortions, the more nervous I get-- to the point where I've wondered if it would be worth the risk. To read the things the right wing is saying about him... I just can't wrap my brain around it. He helped women who were desperate, who had no choice, like my friend. He was a father of four. My dad is a father of four, and an OBGYN like George Tiller. I can't stop thinking about this guy, how brave he was, and his poor family.

2. Sascha's still shutting me out. It's all about Daddy. I mean, fine, she's two, I get it, she's gonna do stuff like that. But man, it sucks. "No no! Mama go that way!" (i.e., "beat it, lady") is what I get when I try to intrude on their dinner or diaper changing or whatever. It sucks. That pushes me into the "pro" side for having another kid, because another one might actually like me. She's not supposed to be like this for another 11 years or so.

3. Today at work, this one teacher said to me, "Oooooh!! Abby! Number two?" I was truly confused by this, so I said "huh?" She said, "are you expecting?" I made some lame joke but I felt like I'd been slapped. I know I was wearing one of those flowy-type shirts (that I will probably never wear again, thank you) that isn't the most waist-flattering, but daaaamn. I just finished losing all that weight. I haven't been this thin (or as it turns out, "thin") in over three years. I feel great and really proud of myself, and now this woman makes me reevaluate and skip my wine tonight. I'm embarrassed to admit that later on I actually shed a few tears over it. Of course, Sascha had just accidentally driven her head directly into my nose, so the pain of that cracked the emotional dam.

So. Those are the three bugs up my ass right now.

I'm ovulating this week. I'm aware of it, but I'm not feeling terribly optimistic. I would tell you to blow on the dice for me, but somehow that sounds kind of dirty.