This was taken today, and I’m now 30 weeks pregnant. 30 weeks was always the point at which I promised myself I’d start panicking, because, well - 10 weeks to go. That sounds crazy to me But actually I feel fairly calm, and not much like panicking. When I watched the bizarre NCT DVD “Happy Birth Day!” then I did feel stabs of mild terror, but that was some time ago, and I haven’t subjected myself to it since. Besides, the birth videos on You Tube are so much more fun.

I always want to laugh when I talk to women who have alreday had childen, about the topic of labour and childbirth. They all get a faintly cagey, pitying look, as though they know how terrible it is but don’t want to shatter my innocent illusions. Sometimes being aware of things is a real pain in the arse, and I often think it would be better to be ignorant. I felt the same growing up. I wanted to say, as an aside, ‘Hey, I KNOW that being a teenager sucks, and that it’s at times awkward, boring and confusing. I know all that. I just haven’t got beyond this stage yet, so I only know these things hypothetically’.
Now I want to say to the women who have been through childbirth, ‘It’s okay, don’t spare me the horrible bits - I know it’s going to be terrible, simply by the look in your eyes.’ they think I don’t understand that. And perhaps that’s not fair, childbirth is very exciting after all - it can just hurt a lot. Yeah yeah, I know… more than a lot.

The bit I don’t understand, and that makes me blush with my own inexperience and impatience, is when they tell you that having children will change your life. But they don’t tell you HOW it will change your life, just that it will. They say it ruefully, with a shake of the head and a twinkle in the the eye that is both sad and rejoicing. I don’t understand this, and I’d like to admit this fact to them also, but I don’t expect they care. All I know is, having a baby is the biggest thing I’ve ever attempted, and I don’t think I’ll ever do anything as important in the rest of my life. I’m not so much anxious to get it right, as impressed and quiet at the weight of this incredible task on my shoulders. I know preparing for that - for how it feels to be a parent, a mother - is futile, and so I just wait, as the days smooth seamlessly into weeks and the weeks count down to the day when I will understand.

Lately I feel that I miss the girl I used to be, now that I know for sure that I’ll never go back to being her again. I don’t even necessarily want to be her, just sometimes feel a little wistfulness for myself a year or so ago. I remember being into kitsch stuff and before leaving London acting generally irresponsibly in a harmless way. I’d be moved - deeply - by music and photography and film, and would basically do whatever I wanted. If I felt like going to see a film I would, so long as I could afford it. And I used to just walk, around central London at dusk or by day, getting almost but not quite lost and being okay with it. I felt like a stupid silly butterfly struggling out of its damp bed, and being okay with its tentative incompleteness. It was alright, this discovery. I ate expensive American candy, and nobody sent it to me with love because I just bought it myself at CyberCandy, experimenting with different things that I had no idea whether I’d like. And I wrote in my moleskine and was basically selfish, but in a spectacularly inoffensive way. At least, from what I can tell, looking back I don’t think I hurt anyone, but probably didn’t touch anyone either. Somehow, that was okay; I was busy getting to know myself.

Now I’m aware that I can never be that selfish again. I’m going to have a child, and already this little person is depending on me for all its shelter and food and protection, as it nestles inside me. I was thinking today how strange our relationship is at the moment. I mean, we’re about as intimate as two people can physically be, and yet we don’t know each other. We’ve never met. There’s an awkwardness, a kind of unknown quantity that makes things interesting but also strange. I feel him move and I think “Who are you? What do you look like?” and I can’t wait to meet him, I really can’t. But I wonder if he will love me as I feel I’ll love him when I see him. Babies don’t really love their mothers it seems, not at first. They’re just little bundles of delicate need. I already feel this tremendous tenderness and desire to protect him, but I wonder if he knows anything or feels anything yet. Or is he just silent in mouth and in mind, floating on his warm safe sea that is also my warm safe sea, because it’s within me. I wonder how he’ll feel about being created, and hope that he won’t mind. That he’ll see it as a good thing, as both of his parents do. I hope so.

So. The time has come to take a little break from this blog. The renewal of my hosting prompted me to think about why I still have this, and if I want to continue it. After much thought, I decided to swap hosts (thanks webbez) and keep this blog online, but take some time away from it.

My mind is a whirlwind of confused thoughts at the moment, and they are scattered like seeds in so many fields. I need some time, to get calm, to reflect, to think about the future and how I’d like it to be. I need an outlet, a place to spill my most private thoughts and fears, but that place isn’t here. Most probably it will be my trusty moleskine notebook, discarded so often but always eventually welcomed back into the fold, and confided in again. Because if I don’t write out some of my squillions of thoughts somewhere, the level will grow higher and higher, until my brain short-circuits under the pressure of them all.

And, it’s complicated, but for so many reasons, I just can’t write here. My thoughts aren’t bad, they’re just mine, and they need to remain private.

See you when I see you. And have a happy Christmas and a groovy new year!

Just changing hosts before I go on hiatus. Longer explanation to follow soon!

Vicky

x

The stars are bright tonight
And I am walking nowhere

And still I have my weaknesses
And still I have my strength
And still I have my ugliness

Stars - The Cranberries

Postsecret is good this week. I thought you all should know. And here’s one that could have been made by me, although it wasn’t:

I feel something - I don’t know what it is. Its similar to how I would feel walking home from K&C’s sometimes in the winter, after spending time there and knowing it didn’t really matter to them. I suppose if you could put it very simply it would be called loneliness. But it feels more than that, somehow. It sort of swells my chest and isn’t necessarily bad, I can’t understand it. I don’t know how to describe it, so I don’t know why I’m posting here. Perhaps I just want a record of this day - in case it turns out to matter, later.

How can a person be tough and feisty and strong and push through difficult times, and also be vulnerable, open, soft and emotionally honest? I can’t seem to be both at once - only one group or the other. Mainly the second group, but that can often be negative and my emotions just end up getting sad. I’m frightened if I make an effort to be strong and hard-working, I’ll completely squash the softer side of myself. And then maybe I’ll become someone that I - and other people - don’t like very much. The kind of person who doesn’t feel and who doesn’t let other people in.
Or maybe I’m there already and I’m only just waking up to the fact…

I’m in the living room with the door closed, and outside spread around the hall are the remains of a massive, dead, ripped up black bird thing that I have to deal with shortly. Argh. Venus has thoughtfully removed the legs, though I’m not quite sure why. And the main… section is a bit.. well, it’s not very pleasant.
No cute, snuffly little kisses from her tonight. Blood stained killer! And for those of you wondering, Venus is my cat - not my flatmate or anything like that. That really would be freaky.

I’m plugging away at my NaNoWriMo novel, it started off really easy but I’m slowing quite a lot now. I’m wondering if I was so keen to start this year that it made me write like a crazy person and get 6,000 in the first two days. Ah well! I’m at 13,000 words now, which is quite respectable, although when I see people on the site whose word count bars are almost full or who have written 100k already, it makes me feel a bit worried. Blargh.
I’m liking my plot though, and that helps. Even if the characters are taking over and doing what they want to do.

I’ve been thinking about this blog more seriously of late, because the hosting is coming up for renewal in December and I don’t know if it’s worth paying £60ish to have another year of Lost in Thought. I plan to be busy in the next twelve months or so, although that can always go arse over tit I suppose. I dunno. Anyway, if anyone wants to sign up for dreamhost web hosting, now’s a good time! I’ll give you a $50 discount (code: VICKYDISCOUNT50) and it helps towards my hosting - neatly taking the decision about whether to continue this blog out of my hands.