Week 19, Sympathy Pregnancy (continued)

Last week I was posting about Nate’s sympathy pregnancy, and how it manifests itself first and foremost in weight gain, lol.  But there are a couple other manifestations I wanted to talk about.  Not only does he parallel me in eating for two, but he starts drinking for two as well.  Now, I should preface by saying that Nate is the jolliest drunk I’ve ever met.  In fact, he’s so lovey and adoring that it actually drives me nuts.  I try not to be so hormonal bitchy, but the truth is I’m sitting over here with a plethora of symptoms making me uncomfortable, I’m sober, and I just want to lay on the couch and eat.  Also I’m a little bit jealous.  I’ve completely outlawed wine in the house because I can smell it from across the room, and I start salivating.  It’s just not fair.

So besides wine, or when he actually gets really drunk and wants my attention, then I don’t really care.  Especially because he will wait on me hand and foot.  He will serve me food, seltzer water, cookies, and headache pills whenever I ask.  He will change all the diapers and feed the kids.  He will keep the house clean to his standard, (which leaves much to be desired as far as I’m concerned,) but the intention is there, and it means the world to me when I’m incapacitated.  So he will start day drinking alone at 10a.m. on a Saturday, and I’m like, “What’s the occasion?”  And he’s like, “I need fuel to deal with your neediness.”  And I’m like, “Fair enough.”  And I mean it.  For all that he does for me when I’m pregnant, if that means he needs to have a continual buzz, then I can understand.  Because in all reality, if I could take on pregnancy with a steady buzz, I think all would be right in my world.

The other thing that happens soon after I get pregnant is that Nate goes through a kind of mini mid-life crisis.  Clearly, he thinks his life is about to be stripped of all fun.  And truthfully, he’s got a point.  At least for the pregnancy and the first year of the baby’s life.  So he comes up with some expensive and unattainable thing that he wants, and starts to obsess over it.  This time it’s a Harley Davidson.  Now, for those of you who don’t know, I practically grew up on the back of a Harley.  My dad and uncle went riding every weekend they could, and my mom and I were almost always on the back.  I loved it.  Nate and I have dreamed about owning and riding a Harley together, and I have always known it would be a reality someday.  SOMEDAY.  Like a day when the kids are in school or with friends, and Nate and I can just take off for a day ride, knowing that our kids are somewhat independent and self sufficient.  Not when they are babies and still in that age where they might accidentally kill themselves if I’m not circling like a hawk.  And especially not when I’m still breastfeeding every two hours.

Okay.  The kids are one factor, but if we really wanted to, we would figure it out.  That’s not my biggest concern.  The two other factors that are non negotiable in my mind are; not while on sea duty, and not until we have a garage.  Even the garage factor I’d be willing to work with as long as we weren’t on sea duty.  Because a Harley is not meant to just be outside every day in the elements.  And we live by the beach where the air is salty and wet.  This would require some thorough and consistent maintenance on the bike, which Nate just doesn’t have the time for.  And if he doesn’t even have time to maintain the bike, how does he think he will have time to ride it???  His argument is that he will ride it to work.  But there’s another thing.  Motorcycles are especially dangerous in the city and during rush hours.  The man just spent the first 15 years of his Naval career jumping out of helicopters as a rescue swimmer.  So I’m like, “For God’s sake, can you please just be safe for like five minutes?”  I don’t need to be worrying about you on the job, as well as on your way to the job.  Give me a freaking break.

So even if we could overcome the absence of a garage, and find the time to enjoy the damn thing, what happens when Nate leaves town for weeks to months on end for work?…. One more thing for me to manage and take care of and maintain?  I think not.  Since we wouldn’t have it safely tucked away in the garage, I would have to move it regularly.  Even if I had a motorcycle license, and I knew the kids were safe to be alone for a few minutes, I would still need the physical strength and confidence to wrangle that beast.  That’s not even going into the maintenance regimen it would need.  Sea duty = no motorcycle.

I try to explain these realistic obstacles to him, and his idea is that we build a garage.  Okay.  Let’s think through this one.  Although I actually really like the idea of the garage, it would be a very large undertaking because we would have to create space where there is none.  We would be digging into the hill under our front deck all the way to the front door, construct the garage, and then recreate access to the front door on top of the garage.  And that’s even IF the city approved it.  So here I am like baffled by this delusion that we could make this happen, all while we are about to have a baby.  Oh, and did I mention that the construction bid was $90,000?  Lmao.

So here I am, the baby-making dream killer.  And my husband, well I guess that makes him the fat, delusional drunk.  It’s all just part of our journey through pregnancy, and it’s not always a pretty picture.  But it’s our truth.

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