Okay, I don't want to come off sounding like a selfish bitch or anything like that, because I'm so not. But there are things that push me over the edge when it comes to the handicaps of pregnancy...
Let me first explain what I mean by handicaps. You see, being pregnant, I've suddenly discovered that there are a world of new things I want to do in preparation of my baby's arrival. They are things I would have never even thought to do prior to being pregnant--especially in my infertile state where even the very slightest thoughts of baby stuff made me depressed. I want to clean out my house out and scrub it from top to bottom. I can't. The amount of chemicals and heavy lifting that requires could cause brain damage and enormous stress on my unborn child. I'd like to paint my baby's room, I want to strip and refinish my old heirloom furniture for my little girl to use, but again, I can't. The chemicals required are way too dangerous and toxic for me to breathe while I'm pregnant. It could cause birth defects, or worse. So, of course me being unemployed, I'm anxious to be doing pretty much anything I can in preparation for my daughter's arrival, but I am forced to wait for help.
Here's where it gets difficult. I live in a small town and don't have friends nearby. My grandparents live a couple minutes away. They're both retired, but have plenty of things to keep themselves busy with, plus a lot of health problems. Even though my grandpa is a handy and selfless kind of man and loves to help out with various friends and family's projects, I just feel bad about asking him for too much help because he's really not getting any younger and I hate to work him too much. I'd rather have him around to enjoy his great granddaughter a little longer, you know?
The only other family around is my parents and brother who live about 20-30 minutes away in the next town. My dad is the sole bread winner of that household and works long nights as an RN, full time. When he's not working or sleeping, he's kept busy doing things for my mom and taking care of their huge acres of property, gardening, taking care of the animals, and various house projects of their own. This is all because my mother has been disabled from Post Polio Syndrome for several years now. She was an RN too, but can't work anymore due to her loss in body function. She can't walk good and gets fatigued almost constantly, so if she gets anything done around the house, she thinks it's a miracle.
Then there's my brother. I need an entire novel to explain my brother, I think. He just turned 33, lives in my parent's attic in a two bedroom, one bath, living room and make-shift kitchen flat. He doesn't have a job. He's not going to school anymore and as far as I know, doesn't have any plans for either one. Over the last ten years or so, he's gradually become the worst picture of health you could ever imagine. He has claimed to have developed well over a dozen allergies, health conditions and diseases alike that I can't even remember correctly. Most of these determine how he lives his life and has caused him to become secluded and unsocial and develop many strange habits. However, growing up, my brother and I were practically inseparable. We were like twins because even though he was a year older, we started school together in the same grade, went through 12 years together and graduated at the same time. We were very close even after graduation. But things changed, and I'll never really know why, I don't think. But he changed a lot. I still try to remain close with him and it always slams back at me.
A couple weeks ago, I decided to ask my brother if he would help me work on the furniture. I figure he isn't tied down with a job. I don't otherwise get to spend time with him anyway, and what better way to spend time with him, I thought? But he told me he had too many appointments that day. I was a little bummed, but I wasn't upset with him. It isn't uncommon for him to tell me about all the things he has to do and what not. He likes to keep a schedule and hates to stray from that. Long story short, I was accused of being harsh and expecting him to do things for me at the drop of a hat. He accused me of treating him like a vacuum cleaner, only dragging him out when I needed him and then shoving him back in the closet. I was totally appalled at this accusation, of course, and it really hit me hard. Suddenly I realized what a sad relationship I had with my only brother. I couldn't believe he really thought that about me and I felt completely hurt.
Forgive me for thinking this, but for some reason I always believed that family was supposed to be your biggest ally. I thought they were there to help you in your time of need and vice versa. Why else do we even relate with each other if not for support? I've never thought of myself as a selfish person. I despise selfishness! I think it's totally immature and I can't stand anyone who gives off that selfish vibe to me. It repels me like the smell of dead fish. I have a soft spot for sensing people's feelings and always kinda thought that was a curse because it kept me from doing things for myself that I wanted rather than doing things that other people wanted. For some reason, I've always felt more comfortable doing what other people wanted to do rather than what I wanted because then I wouldn't feel like I was subjecting them all to do something they didn't want to do. My needs sort of fall on the back burner when it comes to other people's feelings. I like to help other people. It makes me feel good. So, when someone as close to me as my own brother accuses me of being selfish, it's like a stab in the heart. I shouldn't have to go off on a tangent singing my own sad song about my crappy life to him. He should know all that. And he should know I'm not the kind of person he's accusing me of being. The fact that he doesn't makes me think we're not as close as I thought.
Anyway, I didn't mean for this entire blog to be about my brother. It just really hurt me because up to this point, he's been so openly excited about the prospect of having a niece. Now he hates me because he thinks I treat him like a vacuum cleaner. All I was doing was asking him if he could help me refinish the furniture for my daughter. The funny thing is, if I could, I wouldn't ask anyone for help. I'd gladly do it all myself! I mean, I actually love doing projects. I've found since we got our own home that doing home projects is really satisfying and fun! The problem is just that being pregnant puts a pretty big damper on those kinds of things. People might think I'm overreacting, but you tell me if it took you 8 years to get pregnant, wouldn't you maybe be a little more careful than the average pregnant woman? I'm gonna go ahead and say yes, because that's where I'm at.
So, since my brother was kind enough to point it out to me, I just wanted to apologize to anyone else that I've made feel used and unappreciated. I was just happy that I'm finally able to do all the cool parent things I've longed to do for so many years, and thought others might enjoy helping me prepare since they've been waiting with me. I thought people would be glad to see me come out of my shell of depression and be excited about getting ready for baby. I hope that you know enough about me to know that I'm not a self-centered person and that I've helped you numerous times before, and not only that but I enjoy doing it. Forgive me if I think that sometimes the people you help are supposed to return the favor every once in a blue moon.
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