I Could Lie
- 01
- 18
- 11
“Lying is done with words and also with silence.”
Adrienne Rich
People: How are you feeling? Me: I feel good, thank you!
People: The baby is coming soon! Are you getting so excited? Me: Yes, we can’t wait!
A simple script. One that plays over and over. Every day. It’s a script in which I play a leading role. I’m complicit in its content. I croon answers, quick, cheerful, coated in candy. These are the answers people want to hear. The answers people expect to hear.
But are they lies? Not exactly. Maybe. More so though, they are simplifications, truth whittled down to tiny (and insufficient) strings of words, of expression, of emotion.
I could lie and tell you that I am thirty-one weeks pregnant and I am feeling great and am getting pumped for what’s to come. I could lie and tell you that spending two hours on Diapers.com yesterday ordering Pampers in a slew of sizes as well as tubs of diaper cream, a rectal thermometer, tiny wash cloths, as well as sundry other practical items made me shiver with anticipation and glee. I could lie and tell you that my confidence level is at an all-time high, that I have no doubts about having a third child and balancing it all.
I could lie. But I won’t. Not today. Not to you.
I am overwhelmed. I am achy. I am shaky.
While my pregnancy continues to go well (thank goodness), I feel big and uncomfortable. I am not sleeping well as my nights are broken by cryptic dreams/nightmares and endless trips to the potty. I am waddling, not walking. The scale? Its doing its dance, the numbers creeping upward, and I’m not a fan. I feel unwieldy and unattractive even though people are showering me with compliments, cliched and well-meaning. (pregnancy becomes you! you are glowing! all belly! all belly!).
It’s not just physical. It isn’t even mostly physical. Emotionally, I am all over the place. A bundle of knowing and neuroses, of delight and dread, of celebration and struggle, of happiness and hormones, of elation and exhaustion. My mind shimmies with worry and wonder, with truth and trepidation, with light and dark.
Intellectually, I know. This is par for the course. I am on the precipice of transition. My body is changing and so is my family. In less than two months, she will be here. And I will love her madly. I will stare at her while she is sleeping. I will watch my girls welcome her home. And this? All of this? This will be magic.
But it will also be hard. There will be little sleep and big doubts. There will be fussing and crying and hoping and trying. There will be compelling chaos peppered by moments of order. There will be novelty and familiarity. There will be overwhelm.
And, really, I am just tasting it now. And it is affecting me. It is.
I do feel good. This is not a lie. I feel good and lucky and alive and full. I feel fortunate and aware and happy and healthy. But I also feel other things. Harder things.
We can’t wait. This is not a lie. We can’t wait to see her and hold her. To tickle her tiny toes and bring her home. To absorb her into the ecosystem that is our family. But we are also anxious, a bit on edge, frayed with fear.
I could do what I am so good at, what we are all so good at, I could whittle complicated truth down to simple bits. I could scatter these bits and then retreat to the safety of silence. But sometimes silence is its own lie, no?
This? This is not just about being pregnant. This is not just about being a parent. This is about being a person.
It is about feeling it from time to time, life’s swirl of shadows and stars. This is about stopping and realizing that control is a rarity. It’s about opening our eyes, our ears, our existence, to the rattle and hum of reality. A reality that can feel exquisite and impossible at the very same time.
______________________________________
Do you believe lying can be done with both words and silence? When asked “How are you?” do you instinctively say “yes” even when the truth is more complicated? Do you feel overwhelmed by life from time to time? Do you believe that reality can feel simultaneously exquisite and impossible?
Everyone struggles and...
First of all, I love that Adrienne Rich quote and agree with it wholeheartedly.
Secondly, yes, yes, yes, every single day I find life exquisite and impossible. That’s the very DEFINITION of life for me. And I often wonder, as you do here, about where to tread when people ask “how are you?” – generally I give the same simplified answers you do, because honestly I don’t think most people are REALLY asking. But with a handful of people, those I trust most, I share the whole story. And it’s always worth it, because people say, as I am trying so inarticuately to do here: you are not alone, I’ve been there, yes, I get it, you are neither crazy nor ungrateful, you are human, and what magic awaits.
Sorry that I am blabbering. Just wanted to say THANK YOU for your candor and honesty, and that I’m here if you need anything at all.
xoxo
I hear what you’re saying and commend you for being truthful. While it’s probably about a lot of things, you can’t leave hormones off the list. It’s hard to feel any one emotion when your body is running its hormonal spin cycle magnifying concerns and dreams and everything else. I was in tears the night prior to going into labor with Myles. I was big and sad and “COULDN’T EVEN EAT COMFORTABLY” god forbid.
You made me think though, how often do we all lie a little when people ask us those non-question questions about how we are and how’s everything going. Imagine if we all answered honestly: “I feel like shit” or “pretty lousy” wow.
My default answer for cliche questions is usually something along the lines of “It’s another day,” or “We’re getting there,” or something else that is neither good nor bad, but doesn’t overwhelm the questioner with a whole host of details he/she doesn’t want!
I’m glad that you have this blog as an outlet for your real feelings – that you don’t have to keep it all bottled in for the polite answers on here.
(Oh, and I always HATED the pregnancy compliments. When I felt like an elephant, I did not want to hear that I looked beautiful, or that I was still tiny, or anything like that. For some reason, those only made me feel worse!)
Oh, I remember those nights so well, Aidan. As well as the sense that I was supposed to say “fine” and “good” and “great,” when the reality was much more complicated. I felt like I was being a bad mother if I acknowledged the anxiety and ambivalence. But they were there. I’m glad you are being honest and telling the world the whole truth, good and bad!
I am the queen of pretend. I will tell people I am great and I could be dying inside. I guess I just feel that some thoughts and feelings are not to be shared with everyone. But, I probably do need to open up more about how I am really feeling. This is something that I am working on. It is going slow….
I know exactly how you feel. Over the moon elated, yet scared, very scared at the same time! And these crazy hormones are not helping.
I agree with Lindsey. People ask questions but I don’t believe that most people want to hear the answers. I also believe that those people that really matter could see it on our faces when something is wrong. Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate the complicated truth.
When I really think about it, pregnancy is an epic fear in my book. Of course all these beautiful creatures and things come out of it. But the process seems so down-right scary! And to think, people say that the 9-months of holding is better than the 18 years of arguments, ups & downs etc. Bottom line, you are AMAZING for having the strength to have a baby!
As for silence as a lie, that is another tough one. Does omitting information really mean you’re lying? At least when concerned with chit-chatting with others who most likely don’t even want to hear the woe’s! I think as long as the silence isn’t hurting anyone, it doesn’t count as a lie!
I can completely relate. While these feelings are all a part of being a person, I feel like being pregnant amps up the number of times we have to play the part, perhaps tell the lie. The first thing anyone asks you when you are pregnant is, “How are you feeling?” The first time I was pregnant I thought that was really so strange. What are people expecting you to respond with? “Good” “Huge” “Ready”? I don’t know. I guess people just want to know that things are okay. It does seem like people are much more concerned with the well being of pregnant women than normal people.
Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that, as you probably know, what you are feeling is normal!
We live in a culture that expects upbeat. We profess “Fake it until you make it.” We allow for the occasional let down of the public face – but not too much, and not for too long.
Oddly (or not), in Europe, in my experience, they find our American propensity for always saying we’re great and fine both strange and disingenuous. Go figure.
And when you’re pregnant, you feel crappy a good part of the time. At least I did. Which doesn’t mean you aren’t happy to be pregnant. You just feel crappy!
I don’t like some so called social pleasantries because they often feel fake. I don’t like to be asked how I am unless someone is truly interested. Really, it doesn’t bother me to not be asked by people who aren’t close friends.
Sometimes if I am feeling saucy I’ll respond to the question by telling them that I feel lousy and that I think that I might be sick.
It is not nice, but it provides my sometimes juvenile self with a bit of levity. And yes, I think that life can be the perfect contradiction.
I love this post, people that know me understand that I will always speak the truth, those that don’t know me are sometimes shocked by my answers. I try and be kind when I can, sometimes it just can’t be done. So if I walk away or just smile, sometimes this is the kindest and most honest thing that I can say at the time.
Always, Bumby
I don’t mean to lie, but when those questions are asked in passing, I know the person doesn’t have time for all the sheltered corners of my heart and mind. So I give the easy response. When given a bit more time, I say much more, about all of it…kind of like I do on my blog much of the time, just working through it all out loud. And then I always try to end with a positive spin or some kind of wisdom gained or whatever…and sometimes that feels forced because I don’t always FEEL the goodness, even when I know it’s there.
See? It gets so messy to articulate it
I agree with many ladies above — people ask questions without really wanting to hear the answers… just the pat “I’m fine!” or “Everything is great!” that we all offer day in and day out.
That being said, I’m nothing is not polite… I figure if someone takes a moment to ask me how I’m doing, I answer positively — almost as a reward for their question. No one wants to be bogged down with my negativity on the days I’m not feeling up to snuff. Still, the truth is always much more complicated — and yes, the people who matter and care for us can tell when something is wrong. It’s just a matter of whether we choose to share it with them.
One of my personal hang-ups is that I feel like I’m “burdening” the people closest to me by sharing my worries, fears, etc., so my default is to always answer in a noncommittal or neutral way. It’s always seemed better, but I’m starting to think that maybe it’s not.
A very beautiful and thought-provoking post as always, Aidan! Sending good vibes your way.
Oh yes, Aidan. I just wrote today about these yin and yangs of life…the joy, the dissonance, the happy, the sad. I adore you sharing the truth here. So much. Because it makes the human experience NORMAL. Oh, whew, I’m not the only one. xxoo
Most people who know me speak to me regularly enough to know how I am and, therefore, don’t need to ask. It’s those, as others mentioned above, that are asking for the sake of small talk that I find easy to dismiss with a simplified answer.
Your baby is coming! Your baby is coming! I remember the excitement of the third. I remember the horrible sleeping. I remember wanting the baby out so I could hold it, not because of the discomfort and that seemed to make me feel the pregnancy interminable.
There seem to be so many bloggers I follow that are pregnant – I sure am glad it’s no longer an option for me!
thinking of you lots and wishing you peace and rest.
In a nutshell, yes. If you don’t know me, my life is always wonderful, and I’m always feeling fine. Strangers don’t know how to react if you tell them something heavy or less than perfect so I try to avoid that at all costs.
To my family and friends? I can be painfully honest. It’s the price I pay.
Thank you for this. My husband and I have ALWAYS said we wanted two kids. And now we’re at a point where this is a real possibility, and we’re totally freaking out. It’s like all of a sudden the reality of this new ecosystem (I love that phrasing, so much) is here, and we’re just completely overwhelmed. Our hearts are so ready for another little life. But our brains and our bodies…they’re just wavering. Change is scary! Beautiful, but scary.
Hey Aidan! I just gave you a “Stylish Blogger” Award on my blog!
Definitely don’t feel obligated to repost it if you don’t want. I was just happy to link my readers to several blogs I’ve recently discovered and think are great; yours being one of them! 
Your honesty here is much appreciated, Aidan. This post will help many women who share similar feelings feel more confident in discussing their full range of emotions more readily. I think you really touched on the subtleties of the hopes and fears we all experience when we are on the brink of change, no matter how wonderful that change may be.
I hope the remainder of your pregnancy continues to be lovely and that you are able to get some rest!
Thinking of you Aidan and wishing you some rest.
I agree about the pre-packaged answers that people often give in response to questions. It takes effort to be genuine and I believe that people often don’t want to take the time to honor their own words because it might reveal something about themselves that they are unwilling to confront.
I love that – exquisite and impossible. Exactly. Iwan and I always say that we feel like we live life with our emotions so close to the surface since we had kids. Joy, exhausation, love, and frustration are so palpable and ever present.
Great post!
“control is a rarity”. Yes.
I love listening to your real answers. They make me feel real. You seem real when you give them. Not like a Barbie Doll.
Hello! Thanks for commenting on my blog today. I so look forward to reading yours — I used to live on the Upper West Side — it’s where my daughter was born, and although I do love the sunny southwest, I miss it often.
I’m off to browse through your blog!
“Fine. How are you?” is my standard reply. And, on those days that I can’t even choke out the standard? I nod politely, and then call up those close to me to get hugged through the phone.
All the best to you in the coming weeks~
I feel overwhelmed on a daily basis and rarely share those feelings with anyone. Of course I’m blessed, and of course I appreciate my life. But life is hard, even the happiest ones.