The Invisible Woman

(Disclaimer: This blog entry is probably going to make me sound like a whiny little bitch, but I don't care. I need to get it out there.)

I think I'm invisible. I've noticed that people have stopped noticing me. I express my concerns and feelings and everyday thoughts, and they go largely ignored - by people who used to actually care, no less. Online I am a person who really doesn't seem to be worthy of communicating with anymore; in real life I am a living, breathing incubator and nothing more.

It's a weird place to be. I'm trying not to be offended by the way things have changed, but to be honest, lately I have been horribly lonely. I started feeling this way around mid-January, I think, and I have managed to keep it under control for the most part. I've been distracting myself with school and getting things done for The Big Change.

But earlier this evening I was walking around the halls at work. I was one of the last people there. Someone stopped to make note of how big my tummy is (as usual), and while we conversed about that (as usual), I was overcome by this really deep-seated feeling of panic. It was then that I realized how scared I am of The Big Change. I am scared to be a mother. I am scared of everything that will follow. I have no idea how my marriage will be affected, only that it will be. I have no idea how my relationships with friends and family will change, only that they will. I have no idea what will become of my dreams or goals or the Leslie who I am now, only that these things are bound to change as well.

And I just don't feel ready for this. I don't feel ready for any of it. As much as I love this little boy who is growing inside of me, I am absolutely frozen with fear. I am terrified.

I don't think anyone really understands, and if they do, they're not joining in on sharing the fears. And I hate that. I hate that there are these things that are left unsaid because maybe they aren't PC or "safe" to say. I just need to know that I'm not alone. Why isn't anyone else speaking up? And why do I get the feeling that many people just can't be bothered with me anymore? I feel completely abandoned.

I realize that I sound really overly dramatic, but this really is the way I feel. I feel like I have nothing to cling to anymore except everyone's expectations that I should be grateful that I'm pregnant at all. I feel like people have moved on from being a part of my life because they cannot relate to me anymore. In short, I feel that this pregnancy has come between me and quite a few people, and I know I am in a major adjustment period, and it really sucks right now.

For those of you who have continued to be a part of my life, online or unplugged, thanks so much for hanging in there with me. It seems that a lot of my blog readers have jumped ship, and that has affected me more than I'd like to admit (probably because it has come at a time when I am noticing that some in-real-life people can't seem to be bothered with me anymore). The truth is, a blog is a dialogue, and many people have stopped talking. It's hard to carry on a one-sided conversation. Thanks to those of you who do comment or who read at all. Thanks to all of you who check in with me or who even think about me at all, ever. Things haven't exactly been easy, and it's times like this when I really need people. (I'm a people person, so I need people anyway.) Your comments and emails and phone calls and texts and interactions really do matter.

I think I sound like an absolute basket case right now, but the truth is, this week has kind of sucked so far and I'm exhausted and feeling like I'm getting sick again. I hate our childbirth classes because they are so one-dimensional and are doing absolutely nothing to help me deal with the heightened emotions I feel. I hate the baby boards on the Nest, because they are full of women who just want to tear each other down. I hate that all people see when they look at me is a giant belly. When did I stop being a person? When did it become acceptable to stop asking me how I am? I feel like I am all alone on the world's biggest emo rollercoaster and I am sad and scared but trying to hang in there, because I know things are going to get better.

(Disclaimer, part two: All this that I've written here does not mean that I am not happy to be pregnant or that I don't want Charlie. It means that things are really flippin' complicated and scary right now and that it is possible to feel many different emotions at one time. We tried hard for this baby, and we are thrilled to know that he's coming. No matter how hard things get, I am so grateful for the blessings in my life.)