Tuesday, August 28, 2012
My Pregnancy Struggle at Mass
It also meant that she was "on her best behavior," repeatedly telling me so before and after Mass, while pointing out wistfully that Mae Bae was not.
In reality, Mae Bae did do pretty well for a two year old. She sat still for an entire forty five minutes before she began to point at my snood while squealing: "Ma's Hat! Ma's Hat! with a giggle followed by "Me, me, me, me!" Moments later she was being held in the back by Daddy. But forty five minutes of silence wasn't bad and I've noticed that she seems to be quiet for a bit longer on average each month.
Lately I've struggled at Mass in an odd way, that I'm sure is a mixture of pride, in feeling that I ought to be able to do things that I can't do at the moment, along with some sort of worry that people must think I'm just plain lazy, when in reality no one likely notices at all and topped of with pregnancy hormones, because, let's face it, they're surging through my body pretty much all the time. And then there's frustration, because Sadie is at the point where she really wants to do everything I do during Mass, and she wants to kneel when I kneel and she folds her hands exactly as mine are folded, and here I am swooning every ten seconds, about to hit the floor, and not being the greatest of examples.
I'm not sure exactly what the combination is that has me on the edge of fainting during every single Mass we attend, when I'm pregnant. I would have said that it was the 90 degree heat in the basement of the cathedral (okay, "crypt"), but even when it's perfectly temperature I struggle. And it's not just the third trimester giganticness, because it happened throughout the first, second and third trimesters of each of my pregnancies.
I know these things. I've been pregnant for roughly 30 months over the past five years. It happens every time we go to Mass. It must be the sit, stand, kneel combo (particularly the kneel part). But it leaves me frustrated because, when I feel fine, I feel like I should be kneeling and apparently forget what I've learned over the course of those thirty months. And I find myself thinking that if that eighty five year old woman can kneel for half an hour, I should at least be able to kneel for five minutes (see, that's where the pride comes in).
That seems to be the thing I struggle with the most during pregnancy: not doing little things that seem like they should be easy, but which for some reason, are beyond me at the moment.
This week I'll try harder to remember the lessons I've learned over the past few years. And hopefully my stubborn "I can do this" attitude will be overcome with common sense... at least so that I don't find Paul looking at me nervously, and whispering: "You can sit down!"