E and I are pretty different. She is laid back. I am high strung. I am an over-sharer… She is private. I’m talkative (which is how I end up over – sharing regularly) and she can sit quietly for hours.
One of the things that make us complete opposites is our level of response to situations. Right now… I am talking about excitabilty. When planning a vacation… I narrow everything down for her… then give her the options. (I am a planner, she is not) I pour extensively over every little detail. I weigh options. I play out scenarios. She can decide on what she wants before I even finish reading my narrowed down (to probably about 3 choices) options. I should add, this is also how we picked our donor.
As far as preparing for our trip, I spend the months prior making arrangements, shopping, discussing, all well in advance. She takes on the mentality that if we need it and forgot it, we will just buy it there. (I’ve been to Vietnam, where i couldn’t find a single pair of shoes in my size !) So, while I am stressing over the tiniest detail, she gets to remain stress free. This, I often find myself completely jealous about.
I can say that I have gotten better… we have taken some spontaneous trips. Actually, our honeymoon was pretty on-the-fly. E started out so surprised and happy with that… but I think by the end, as we were purchasing clothes from the dollar store, she secretly missed my style. And I, in turn, grew to embrace her style a little more. But the point is, I am a planner and a thinker and E gets excited right as we board the plane.
All of the hours and tears I spent on the wedding (as well as the jabs from her and the “It’ll be fines”) were so worth it when she realized my vision that very day– as we got to the venue. Our wedding ended up on the Style Me Pretty Blog, which next to getting married and getting pregnant, pretty much made my year!
But imagine these qualities playing out, when the easily excitable, planning one gets pregnant and the laid back, plans free one is her partner. I talk pretty much excessively about the baby… and the “whens,” and the “should we’s,” and the “what ifs.” I design the baby room in my head. I mull over names, even though we have already chosen them (just in case?) I randomly ask myself questions like “Do we really have to use organic wipes?” I research. You get it… I am all in all very excited. I do my thing.
E… well E listens. She rarely comments and I can’t think of a time when she brought anything baby up on her own. It’s hard for me. It makes me want to stop talking about it all together. I somehow feel like I am overwhelming her with my incessant baby babble. I offer to stop bringing up baby or how I feel (mostly physically). I try to suppress it and inevitably fail, when we sit in silence long enough. I am at a point where I question what we have in common, because we can’t find anything else to talk about. But in actuality, despite our complete personality differences, we probably have too much in common. We work together, we live together. The truth is, the story about how the cafeteria got evacuated because there was a bat flying around is not fascinating, because she was there.
I am trying to figure out what I really expect of her, knowing full well that anything other than forced excitement would require her to completely change who she is. But that doesn’t mean I can’t feel a little bummed about feeling like the only one who is excited sometimes.
I do believe that when I start really showing her excitement will increase a bit. At least I hope. She said listening to me is how she stays connected to me and baby. I wish there were something more I could do though, to really make her feel like she is part of this experience with me. I hate that people always ask how I am or how I feel… She is expecting too. But I am sure an expectant father rarely gets asked about himself either.
It doesn’t help that we work at the same school and, as I start showing, more kids question me, which can be fun. She works with severely handicapped kids who probably wouldn’t even notice she was nine months pregnant, except maybe to poke her belly or tell her she looks fat. And, we keep our relationship private with kids, so while some kids know we live together, she doesn’t get to do the fun part of telling kids she is going to be a mommy. She also coaches a lot of the kids I teach. One of the funniest moments was when one of the athletes asked me if E knew I was pregnant… and another asked if she was the first person I told. I can’t help but feel like she is being robbed of some of these experiences… but knowing her, the private one, they would probably feel more painful than fun.
I asked her if she would be more excited if it were her egg in my belly. She said no, of course. But she did say it would be different, if she were the pregnant one. I can see that. All of these things and changes are happening to me. The only bummer is, if she were the pregnant one, I would be the same ol’ me… planning and chatting my ass off.
I hold on to moments where she shows her excitement in her own small ways… like agreeing to go look at paint colors for the baby room. And then insisting that I be no where near the paint, when we finally pick a color.
My favorite moment was right after we found out I was pregnant and she fell asleep with her hand on my belly. I will cherish that moment forever.