Fear and (Self-) Loathing in Las Single-Parenthood

As you may (or may not - depends how long you've been following) remember - I wrote a post once on the concept of dating after a relationship that spawned little people (need refreshing? Click >here<)... And I can quite confidently say that I'm finally at "that stage" where I've decided "yep... I'm kinda sick of being on my own 100 percent of my "child-free" time I get"... Sure, that time is not often, but when I do find myself on my own once the kids have gone to bed, or childcare, or their grandparents', I'm wanting company during said time...

However I have reached a conclusion over a couple of weeks of introspection and pensiveness... I haven't taken time for myself enough to get MYSELF ready for the prospect of "dating" someone... I am scared shitless of what might happen. And I feel too gross to even take the whole concept seriously. This saddens me. I am young, smart, somewhat entertaining, witty and gregarious... Yet I feel like soiled goods... It's a horrible feeling. Before I had the kids, I used to be so much more confident in myself...

For a start, I'm going through a real "self-loathing" phase - physically namely... My ass is the fattest it's been in years... My body is thrashed from giving birth to two babies practically back to back and I find myself in the fat club for a start... The plan for summer was to get myself fit enough to return to my sporting passion this April (Hockey) and so far I've barely made a start - and feel too frumpy to drag myself to a gym. The skin on my face is still "hormonally patchy" (you know that mask of pregnancy thing some women get? Pigmentation on the skin of your face??) and whilst I'm battling my state of contraception at late, I've found myself prone to breakouts making me feel even more grotesque... My hair still hasn't recovered from being sapped of nutrients in its entirety, and I still have a few faded stretchmarks which I'd rather I didn't... I guess at the very least I can count my blessings that I wasn't torn from asshole to breakfast or ended up with countless stitches, else I'd probably be ridiculously obsessed with that part of my anatomy and what condition it's in, too!

Second of all, keeping on top of the housework on a day to day level is pretty cyclical. Before I go to bed, I do a clean up en masse of the days worth of crap that has accumulated around the house (mainly from the toddler) so we wake up to a clean household... Cactus Hour runs from approx. 5:30pm til 7:00/7:30pm and hence the clean-up doesn't get done after this time. An average "date" on my behalf requires at least a solid hour's preparation in terms of self-care, clothing, makeup, hair hence were I to arrange a "date" at a normal hour, I'd run risk of either myself, or the house, looking shit-house... And considering my level of self-condfidence is fuck-all at the moment anyhow, I'd probably lean towards paying attention to myself, meaning my house wouldn't be as immaculate as I'd prefer it to be before having visitors. Conundrum. I'm one of those people that genuinely worries about what people think of the state of me, or my house, despite knowing that I'm a relatively awesome and intelligent person, I can't help but assume people are keeping a score-card of the state of my own and my surrounding's appearance...

Third of all is the biggest thing I have to overcome. I am shit freaking scared. I'm scared I'll end up in a relationship with (or even worse - pregnant to) another complete bastard, useless fuckwit, lazy dead-shit, control-freak, abusive asshole or all-round-c-word... I'm ridiculously untrusting and fearful and hence overwhelmingly hesitant based on previous relationships and truly need to learn to trust that (as my friends keep reassuring me) "there are good guys out there" and "not everyone is like your ex(s)"... Easier said than done. I'd rather be alone than walked all over again... Christ, finding a "Mr. Nice Guy" is hard enough when you're not feeling like you're a "bottom of the barrel" woman - so many of my attractive, working, childless female friends are struggling to find "Mr. Right" - let alone someone "like me"...

So I think I need to do a bit of self-renovating (both mentally/emotionally and physically)... Either that, or just come to terms with "I am what/who I am, and the "right" person will accept me exactly as that"... Though I feel for my own self-benefit, I should concentrate on the former rather than the latter... At the end of the day, even if it doesn't make me a "better person" for somebody else, at least it does for myself... Because surely being healthy, fit, and having confidence Maria Von Trapp would envy has got to be better than being a fat fuck who has no faith in humanity or relationships...!

Deep down I know the dream of being "Chelsea-Dagger-burlesque-awesome" is still there... though before, it was being "with somebody" that used to motivate me to "become her"... Now, I need to grab my own life by the balls and get to a state of "Chelsea Dagger" without relying on someone else's encouragement... It's time for some serious self-commitment. I've seen friends do it, I've seen my own mother do it, and after Tyler well I was doing pretty well at doing it myself (and if it weren't for Maya's conception I probably would have gotten all the way there!)

So until next time, peace out... (and "Say No!" to the custard tarts!!!) :P

They are babies. This is life. Not a competition...

For the love of Whomever... How many times do we overhear mothers discussing their kids milestones as though balloons and streamers will go off for whomever has the most impressive account of their kids "achievements"? I'm sorry that this blog is, straight off the bat, pure ranty (hey - give me credit, it's been a while) BUT... tonight at dinner I could hear the ping-ponging of baby-achievements at a table next to me, and it honestly makes me shudder!

How old was Ghandi when he took his first steps as an infant? When did Che Guevara cut his first tooth? Was Martin Luther King rolling over by 4 months? Did Siddartha toilet-train easily? Who bloody knows... and, furthermore, does it really matter? Did it have a staggering impact on what they then went on to achieve?

I know on occasion at mother's groups and playgroup and the like I've pitched in when someone has asked, because you almost feel like you HAVE to speak up... Heavens forbid you don't, else they'll all assume your child hasn't reached that milestone, or *gulp* that they hit it "late"... so of course when people have discussed it, I've discussed it too. With Tyler, he hit all his milestones really early, which would result in a "Wow!" (followed by that sideways look of "well, now you're just bragging!"... FML I'm only even saying it because if I don't you'll judge me worse than if I DO!) and with Maya she's been pretty much bang on average (which you then get the "Oh... that's late compared to your son then!") We cannot win... noone can!

Of course we "cannot win"... Because it's not a competition! These are babies. Unless there's something seriously wrong, it really doesn't matter... and even if there IS something seriously wrong, it's not like you're going to love them any less.

Furthermore - people whogo into detail about how "excelled" your child is and how you think he might be "gifted" and are planning to start "extending him" - oh come ON! Get real. You're child is like, what, 8 weeks old? Let babies be babies. Not trophies. They're divine little creatures needing only their basic needs met, and an excess of your heart...

Rant over. Night peeps and peace out :)

"One in a Million"

On the weekend we were discussing babies who were "meant to be"... Determined to be here. Destined to choose to be our children. Ones who have overcome odds that would normally make their existence rather unlikely.

My daughter is one of those "meant to be" babies. Given the circumstances of her conception, people are either blown away, or in disbelief, when I recall the "odds" which were against her ever being created.

For a start, I have Polycystic Ovaries. I was diagnosed with such at the age of 19, and warned that it could potentially make me rather sub-fertile. In an average year, I ovulate maybe one out of every 3 months. Thus the base percentage for my fertility level, annually, is 25 percent.

Let's break down Maya's conception further from this.

So given that my rate of fertility is 25 percent, you'd need to take into account that, given that there is only a 1 in 4 chance of pregnancy at the time of ovulation when using no contraception (on average 25 percent of unprotected incidents of sex during ovulation results in an actual pregnancy) my base rate for fertility (had I not used any contraception) the night I conceived (given that I must have ovulated else she'd not be here) Maya would have been 6.25%... Fair enough, not "bad" odds but you'd consider it "unlikely".

However given that I was actively using contraception methods (proactive ie. planned contraception) which possess a success rate of 98%, this reduces the odds of conception down to 0.125%. Starting to become a whole let loss likely that she should be here, right?

Then you need to take into account that, following the ineffectivity of the proactive contraception, I opted for an immediate reactive contraception (in the form of an emergency contraceptive). Following the pharmacist's instructions, the morning after pill reduces the possibility of pregnancy by a further 89 percent. Rendering the overall likelihood of conception to a miniscule 0.01375%

And yet despite all this, I have my beautiful, happy, bright little baby girl... And wouldn't change that for the world, of course!

It just makes you wonder ever so much more, about whether chance, or fate, or destiny are a lot more impactual than we might think. I tend to try and be as much as a realist as possible, but given that conceiving my daughter possesses the same amount of odds as a 72:1 Racehorse winning the Melbourne Cup, I'm resigning to think that something else magical must have an influence somehow... And, considering such crazy odds have been overcome just once, well then by gosh, maybe we as a family should be buying more lottery tickets, too ;)

Until next time, peace out...