Pain

Today marks the first time I have ever been over my due date. I cannot believe I'm still pregnant. This conversation sums up my existence right now:

Friend arrives to my house last week to pick up eggs. I haven't seen her in two weeks:

Friend: (freezes in her tracks and stares) Oh. My. Gosh. You have gotten so much bigger just since I saw you two weeks ago.

Mrs. Olsen: Oh. Yeah?

Friend: Yes. How are you feeling?

Mrs. Olsen: Like I want to have a baby.

(2 minutes later)
Friend: So are you retaining water?

Mrs. Olsen: Nope. Not really. My wedding ring still fits me fine.

(10 minutes later, after friend is gone)
Mrs. Olsen realizes that the water retention question is relevant to the concept of How in the crap did you explode like that in two weeks? Mrs. Olsen subsequently teeters between blog-savvy women empowerment and unnerving esteem dips that make her want to hibernate away from the general public.


Basically I'm bi-polar right now. I've been super ornery and feeling sorry for myself. Then I listened to General Conference, where a speaker (who happens to be a surgeon) talked about the role that pain plays in our lives.

Pain, aside from the obvious physical ailments, can also be acquainted with spiritual pain, the tough times we all go through in our life but never saw coming. He spoke about how as a surgeon, he had to inflict pain oftentimes to alleviate pain and how people responded to pain very differently.

A) The pain (aka trial) makes them humble, more compassionate, and closer to Christ.

or

B) They become bitter and resentful towards loved ones, and God.

I basically realized that I have a tendency to fall into category B. I thought that if I ever had a real, life-threatening, prolonged physical challenge like cancer or something, there would be a high likelihood I would be an ornery bitch. Sorry Norma. There's no other word for it.

This realization was super lame, and also a little humbling.

I also realized that no one wants to hang out with someone who stinkin' complains all the time! So I've stopped answering my phone. It's to protect all the people checking up on me, loving me and worried about me, who might discover that I'm absolutely no fun to be around right now.

However, I occasionally will reach out during one of my "highs" to say hello, go to a matinee or eat out. So thank you for thinking of me, and don't take it personal.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to channel The Mister's sweet Grandpa. He has had fried nerves since he had shingles several YEARS ago. He falls into category A. He always talks about how my little Vanilla Wafer looks like he did when he was young.



The Mister's eloquent poetress cousin, sums it up nicely in her poem Persimmon. It's about Grandpa Jack, and her first poetry book is available here.

Persimmon
By Dayna Patterson

Wait for the first frost,
he said

The limbs sag with fruit
hundreds of green shiny eggs

Wait for the frost
and they will be pure
sugar in your mouth

The word persimmon
a parcel of liquid semivowels,
already sugars the mouth.

The persimmons slowly ripen
to tangerine brightness.

They're not ready
till they swell like water
balloons, skin splitting,
almost rotten.

She waits for the frost,
the kill cold to tame
tannic acid, to trick
out the sweet.

She thinks about
persimmons and people
mellowed to sweetness
by adversity's cold clap.

Grandfather's shingles
blowtorch his chest;
he pins a sock roll to his pocket
to keep shirt from flesh

Yet folks feel like kin
and kin like kings
in the fountain
of his kindness

She waits for the frost
and hopes her mouth
will welcome cold fruit.


P.S. Any ginormous pregnant woman gets a free pass for being ornery. For the record. But still, I have had much to think about. Just want to make sure any prego friends are feeling the love. Bitch and moan to me anytime :)