Amanda, I did delete my last post. And thank you for your sweet comment. You made me gulp down a mass of snot and tears. Ok, I'm not doing that badly right now... but. You know.
I went to Connect last night. I was quiet. Here I am, this "mentor" who doesn't talk to anyone. My, how God uses silly people. It was share time, and our facilitator said we each had 3 minutes to talk about where we are right now, and if we needed to say something first that's closing us up, do it. I swear he was staring at me. So I (quietly) said, "I'll go." Everyone cheered. It's a hilarious environment, especially for my thick cynicism. I said, "I'm in my third trimester. I'm so tired. I feel like crap, and I'm having such a hard time being positive... but I wanted to come tonight because it always helps to put things into perspective when I see that other people are struggling too, and still have the strength to encourage others." I said that I was open to feedback. One girl said, "I don't even remember your name, but you weren't here last week and we had an empty chair for you, and you was missed. So even though you didn't feel like comin' tonight, we are all glad your here.... also, your skin is radiant. And weren't you supposed to teach us yoga to help digest our dinner?" Later, when she took her three minutes, she said she was looking for a job... but that if she didn't find one (then she stood up and did a hilarious dance) that she would keep dancing behind the register at White Castle. She's a cool lady.
I was doing all I could not to cry. All the sweet ladies encouraged me, even some of the men. And I'm thinking "what a brat am I!" because I can't get over the fact that I waddle, and sometimes I even walk on my tip toes for fear that my belly will explode (it seems to help), but these people have so much struggle. No one will give them a job, some are homeless... but they have so much hope, and drive. And I act like the world is over if I skip a morning yoga class. I guilt myself over every little thing. Why, I don't know. Our facilitator said, "Guilt is the mafia of the mind." He's got all sorts of phrases. "Enjoy the process" is another one.
I came home after and just cried to Tyler, because women do this every freaking day... but mentally I just can't process it. He said he thinks I just THINK I can't mentally process it. Ok. Regardless, second trimester was great. And now here I am. I'm trying to zip my lips and be thankful, and I am. But I'm doing it through tears, because I'm an emotional freak again. And it's tough.
So... that's all. My skin feels like it's going to rip open. Guess I'll try to pee.