July 12, 2013
 Its been 3 months since I've last posted. What started out as a two week break turned into a three-month period where I felt increasingly private and withdrawn from most people in my life. I talked to two of my friends about this and they both confirmed that they felt "like they wanted to stay inside all day" when pregnant. In addition to wanting to stay inside my house all day, I've overall wanted to stay inside MYSELF for the past three months.
I haven't posted since we found a new job and moved to the Raleigh-Durham area of North Carolina. It has been a season of new transitions and new opportunities for faith. At the same time, it has been a time of uncertainty where I have felt all the old insecurities and difficulties of transition creeping in.
I forgot how hard it was to leave friends. My two closest and newest friends in Chicago both cried when I left. I felt numb and pregnant, and well, like I wanted to run away from everything for a while.
So here I am, in this new town, and I don't know anybody here (well, I know two people from college I will hopefully get to see sometime!). In some ways, I have this massive sense of relief when I know that I only have to focus on waking up, feeding Zoe, entertaining Zoe, and putting her to sleep (and eating lots of oreos because Kaiden wants them ;). I know that my penchant for solitude is not "healthy-Briana" long-term.
Have you ever seen how pregnant animals act though? They do strange things. I remember distinctly watching my dog Sandy act crazy and weird during her pregnancy. At one point, she dug a huge hole in the side of the house and crawled in there for a few days. This is when she was about to have the puppies. I remember how she didn't really want us around as much. I'll never forget watching those wriggly little bundles arrive in a box. I don't think she really wanted us there, and even afterwards, she dragged each little puppy into the hole to be with her, alone.
I told Chris that I feel like a pregnant dog. I am just like that. I don't know if it is hormonal craziness or what, but I have retreated for months into a little hermit hole deep inside of my heart. Sometimes, I also think of myself as a monkey mother, just wanting to hang out in the jungle with my little baby monkey clinging to my chest, jumping high away from everything.
I've found that the vulnerability of a woman really comes to fruition in mothering. You go from this recently independent, go-getter woman to this dependent, emotionally and physically vulnerable person that has the responsibility of caring for tiny little bundles of helplessness. There is nothing that makes me feel more like my life is not under my control than being a mommy. I was reminded by a newly-pregnant friend recently how difficult it can be, from the very beginning, to have all your plans changed, and a new plan set into place, simply because a tiny seed is growing in your belly with God's hand wrapped gently around it.
You are not in charge. God has whispered to me throughout my own journey of mommyhood. Let me open up your life. He says to me, even as I try to jam my life-box shut into a neat and orderly packed box--the way I want it to be.
And it is never going to be the way you want it to be. Because the way I want it to be is crazy and jam-packed with anxiety and all of my insecurities that I am not enough, that I am not doing enough, that I am missing out on something, something, because I am shoveling sand at the playground and making PB&J instead of building and creating my adult life.
So here's to the little someone that dumped my box upside-down, soon to be joined by a much anticipated second--dearest Kaiden.
Zoe is dying to meet you, and so are Chris and I.
"Oh, baby!!" Zoe says when she pats my belly.
Posted by Briana Meade.
April 1, 2013
I've never flown first class before. That is, up until two days ago. Chris managed to get a first class flight with the same amount of miles that it would have cost for an economy flight (due to some generosity on the part of my father-in-law). He wasn't even going to tell me about it, until he realized that I am just a little bit hair-brained and would probably fight with the ticket counter about my mistaken "first-class" ticket.
"I could just imagine you getting really....confused." Chris told me. "So I had to tell you."
I was super excited about flying first class until I realized that it wasn't going to just be me...it was going to be me AND ZOE flying first class.
Immediately I had visions of a screaming toddler running up and down the aisle and a poop smell wafting upwards from the first class cabin, scenting all the marvelous soft towels with a dumpy smell. Lovely. I imagined the people behind me whispering into their cellphones before we took off that they were stuck with a baby in first class. Not to mention the fact that all my fantasies of flying first class have involved me in a gorgeous pencil skirt clutching a laptop, an iphone and looking incredibly skinny and tall in heels.
Not even close.
I was so nervous the day of my trip. I wanted to dress up, but I had dumped a bunch of stuff in my suitcase and a a"first-class" outfit was nowhere to be found (the closest thing I could find was a dress that made me look like a giant watermelon and my stained Emu boots that didn't match). I finally relented and wore jeans.
There is a point in my pregnancy where I just feel sloppy all the time. Like, I-know-I-have-ketchup-on-my-shirt sloppy. Its' really an unfixable thing. No amount of stylish hair-cuts and nailpolish can get me past this feeling when I have reached it around 30 weeks (i.e around now) Although a good tan, I admit, does help me face the world a little bronzer and happier.
I am not tan. I am very white and very pregnancy-fat.
Zoe is a very, very active toddler.
It was fun, in a way. Zoe was able to stand up for a little bit because I was in the bulkhead. I armed myself with a caramel macchiato--which made everything seem luxurious, and I also guiltily put my feet up (which Chris, nor my parents) would never let me get away with. HEY, I was flying first class you guys. I could do whatever I wanted!
Zoe was entertained by everything I had in my bag for 8 minutes and 36 seconds each item. I stretched the animal stickers I had bought (great idea from my friend Chelsea) as long as possible. There were stickers on the first class chair, stickers on the first class seat, stickers on the...you get the idea.
Zoe especially like the first class juice and crackers, which were bountiful in supply. Ahhhh, the lap of luxury. I think Zoe decided she was a first class kind of girl, because she kept asking for more Cran-Apple juice and pretzel crackers. The stewardess was very happy to oblige. She thought Zoe was a doll (because Zoe only cried when she wasn't oogling and googling and entertaining her!)
In the end, the one thing that surprised me about the world of flying first class was that the whole cabin was made up of ordinary people like me and Zoe. There is no special magic wonderland up there.
I guess I had imagined that life up there was full of glamorous people and business executives. To my right, there was a lovely little family with two kids. One of the kids was learning-disabled and made a grunting sound during take off and landing. (Zoe kept looking at him like what are you doing? I am the noisemaker on board).
I realized that, in the cheesiest, cheesiest way imaginable, we are all first class.
There is no one who doesn't belong. I belong, Zoe belongs, the learning-disabled boy belongs.
It felt very, very good. I stuck out my bump a little more and walked with a little sass through the airport with Zoe swinging her little arms beside me.
Posted by Briana Meade. Posted In : Mom's
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