Earlier this evening I had been having some contractions at about 5min intervals. Since I'd been disappointed in the past I didn't want to make a big deal about anything, but I finally went and told Allen about them. In 10 min they were completely gone. I suppose if it was really the real thing they wouldn't have left, but I ended up really kicking myself about it. Allen muscle tested to see if we could figure out what had made them stop so suddenly and best we could tell it was anxiety on my part. Yeah, I know. Labor waits for no woman, and if anxiety kept women from going into labor there would be a lot more teenagers in utero. Still, sometimes it's seemed that it's been all I could do to keep going and then (bang!) I slip up and things completely stall out. Frustrating in the extreme. Of course I feel like God's getting after me for not being perfect, and Allen's telling me that's not the case 'cause God doesn't work like that, and he and I both are just getting more and more frustrated with each other and ourselves. So I'm ready literally drop everything (here, Allen, you be pregnant for a while) and go curl up in the closet somewhere until it's all over when he reminds me that we've got the baby to consider.....It's a huge fat mess.
Growing up things were simple. It was all your fault (no, really, apologizing won't help), and it just sort of stayed your fault just cause that was your purpose in life. I spent more than a few months just sort of being a walking zombie from the sheer, hopeless weight of all of it. But now I'm supposed to screw up, confess, and get on with my life without going through the whole "I feel like pond scum" thing. Right -not what I learned. So it's my stupid fault for being anxious and stalling things, but it's not my responsibility to make sure things work ok?????? Actually that does kind of make sense if I turn my head sideways and forget most of what I ever learned about God (whole also sort of existed to make my life miserable). It's pathetic I know, but there are plenty of times when I still revert to "God exists to stomp on idiots like me who can't keep their act together" mode. Allen tried to give me an analogy about if your mom tells you not to touch the stove and you do anyway and you get burned are you going to yell at your mom for letting you get burned. Well no. But that just meant that it was my fault for getting upset about something that was my fault to begin with. So now I'm doubly in trouble, and this is getting me no closer to actually going into labor.
The really pathetic thing is that in some ways I'd really rather God be mean than good. If He's just mean and arbitrary then it's all poor me, and I really needn't even bother trying 'cause God's going to get me for it anyhow. In other words -no responsibility. On top of that it's habit. It's the way I'm used to responding to messing up. Ok, so I'm getting better about somethings, but it's still a very familiar response. It doesn't even upset me really. When I start following that same old path I didn't start bawling or anything. When you're just one huge conglomeration of screw-ups tears don't really mean anything. It's just sort of who you are. Except I've been around Allen and his family long enough to mostly realize that there's a whole lot more to me than that, but I digress. I know the truth is that God is good and that He's not just waiting to blast me, but that still doesn't fit in with the rest of things very well. In some ways I really don't know how to live around that assumption. I do something wrong, and something I didn't want to happen happens, and I don't always think "Ooop, sorry God. I shouldn't have done that" and then get on with my life. Instead, there are plenty of time when I just sort of....wallow. It's a sad mix of pity and self-condemnation and God with a lightning bolt kind of thinking that tends to take over. At that point I don't really even feel anything -don't want to feel anything. The horrible thing is that so many times I'm not even sure how to break out of it. I don't want any happy clappy "ok, well God is good, so stop feeling that way" paste on a fake smile kind of answer. I don't want to skip ahead to the end of the story without going through the middle, but on the other hand I don't want to reread chapter 12 seven times in order to avoid the ending. I don't know if that even makes sense to anyone but me. I guess I just want to come by my resolutions honestly. I don't want to stuff my emotions or say the right words and not work through what I'm really thinking and feeling. I guess I just don't know how to balance the two. I guess there's a lot I don't know. For everyone's sake though I need to try. It's just so hard for me to reconcile in my mind that I am responsible for how I think and take care of my body and that God is responsible for making things work. I believe that's correct, but it completely contradicts every impulse in my body and brain. Growing up it was all your fault. God did bless and answer prayers (at least hypothetically), but mostly He was the one with a list of reasons not to bless you. After having spent around 22yrs hearing that kind of thinking and only maybe 2-3 hearing anything else I still wrestle with all this -especially on moral issues. I'm getting better about not beating myself up for not getting the laundry done on a particular day, but when it some to stuff like worry and hurting Allen and stuff that affects the baby it really tears me up, and lots of times I revert right back to habit with the added bonus of being to further beat myself up for reverting back to said habit.
Well I guess maybe I need to head back to bed. I got back up because I needed some space to calm down and think through some of this. Hopefully things will get better soon, and hopefully labor will kick in soon.