The Art of Doing Nothing

 

securedownload

Being Pregnant has taught me many a thing. Allow me to elaborate.

1. Never take normal bladder function for granted. Going to to the toilet every half an hour is highly inconvenient and incredibly costly in terms of toilet paper.

2. Never underestimate the value of a decent pair of shoes. It is true, feet do swell and summer really is the worst time to be carrying the weight of another little soul.

3. Baby brain is a real thing and it is alive and well. Gone are the days where organisation comes second nature. Gone are the days when I could walk upstairs in the house and still remember what I was looking for by the time I reach the top of the stairs. Gone are the days…where was I?

4. There is nothing more blissful, nothing more sacred and more utterly necessary than doing sweet FA.

Before I found out I was a fertile myrtle I was of the opinion, that frankly my life was pretty boring. I’d work, come home, eat and sleep and participate in the rat race of life as we all do. Of a weekend I would see my friends, sink a few wines, dance like it was 1999 and eventually stumble home in the early hours. I felt like my life was pretty standard. To put it in simple terms- I always felt like there was more I should be doing, more I could pack into my evenings and weekends.  If I had no plans in the hours after work I felt a sense of social sadness, and almost even social failure. What was this ‘spare time’? I seemed to have more of it than I liked but I detested it. After all, a busy life is a means of vindication, right?

‘Friends want to see me. I have plans. I’m far too busy to sit at home.’

That was how I thought life should be. Where I got this perception from, I have no idea. I could blame it on social media. The photographs that stream endlessly onto our news feeds, the constant status updates of  ‘I had such a great night last night! I love my friends <3’  that we are all too used to seeing in these displays of social one up man-ship.

My housemate was very socially active, with a wide group of friends and an ever expanding diary. ‘I can do the 15th…but I’m busy for the rest of the month.’

It seems to me than many of us aspire to have that kind of lifestyle, to maintain that level of self righteous popularity- especially in your late teens to mid twenties. It’s almost embarrassing to make plans and reply with ‘I’m free as a bird, I can do any time’, to then be bombarded with a list of dates unsuitable for the other party.

Being a mother to be does change your social life, there’s no doubt about it- especially a single mother to be. Suddenly friends don’t know what to invite you to and what to not invite you to anymore- ‘I wasn’t sure if you would be up to it.’ And most of the time, they are right. Your energy levels deplete. You are incapable of going anywhere that doesn’t have a restroom within arms reach. Alcohol is out and so is dancing- at best you could manage a slow waddle. That’s not to say you’re forgotten about of course. That isn’t the case. They still care, they still pop round, you are still theirs. It is just different.

But, you know what I’ve discovered?

It’s okay. It’s more than okay- it’s delectable to come home from work and be given a reprieve from the go go go of the social scene. You are given a get out of jail free card to sit on your sofa with a plate of strawberries. One hand resting on your bump and another propping up an American Classic. I am a woman liberated from the shackles of ‘I’m running late, I’ll be there as soon as I can!’, of having utter hormone rage in trying to find that perfect outfit that I’m sure I must’ve owned once as there were pictures, and most brilliantly- no more Saturday mornings with my head down the toilet praying to the gods that I’ll never drink again if they offer up some sort of relief.

In retrospect I know now that my life is anything but boring. If anything, I was so caught up in the constant whirring wheel of communal goings on that I couldn’t see the spare minutes ticking by through the trees. I was on a 100% all of the time- I never gave myself a break. If I wasn’t out doing something, anything– I was at home thinking about what I could be out doing. It was a never-ending, sometimes enjoyable but sometimes sadistic way of life. Sailing at full speed whilst never having time to listen to the ocean beneath that carried the boat so effortlessly along.

I used to be so scared, all be it excepting of my own company. I’m not even entirely sure why. I’m sure a fair few therapists would have something to say on the subject.

Now, the really terrifying thing is- Life has never been so good.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s