Uncomfortable

My back hurts. More precisely, a muscle underneath my right shoulder blade has a large, stubborn knot that refuses to release and aches, the pain following of the line of my rib cage to the front of my body. I spent a chunk of my rapidly dwindling funds (when you get paid once a month, funds tend to dwindle near the end) for a massage. Although the massage was wonderful and allowed for the first pain free night of sleep I have had in approximately four months, the knot stubbornly remains, an unwelcome distraction from work, sleep and plain, old fashioned sitting around. J has tried to work it out over the past week, going so far as to pick up a mini massager from Brookstone. The massager is wonderful, even working out the knots leaves me close to tears, but I'm looking at the pain as an opportunity to practice my breathing and visualization techniques. I'm tempted to bring it into work and hand it to one of my coworkers when the pain gets bad.

The most irritating element of this particular knot is the fact that is not caused just by my current gestating state. It is stress, caused by my FIL's recent channeling the behavior and mentality of a five year old encased in a 60+ year old body.

I would like to say that I'm not seething over the incident any longer, but that would be a lie. I'm not interested in turning the other cheek, pretending that it never happened or just letting it go. I've never wanted to kick anyone's ass so badly in my life, which is saying something as I repress the desire to kick the behind-quarters of individuals known and unknown on routine basis. The temptation to go completely nuclear on not only J's father, but his entire family, is overwhelming.

My first test in maintaining some sort of reasonable attitude is coming on Saturday, the day of the baby shower. I'm dreading this, as I will be roundly outnumbered by J's family/friends and the contingent belonging to my mother. Out of the people I know personally, friend A lives overseas and was never going to be able to attend, B is attending a work related convention, C was forced to bow out earlier this week to play trophy wife (1) on a last minute work-disguised-as-social-function for her husband's boss and friend D has to supervise the tear-down and clean up of a school-related function and wants to take her child trick or treating in the afternoon. Upon learning about the last cancellation I had a mini-meltdown and have spent most of today trying to control my tears.

Rationally speaking, I know that this is an incredibly stupid thing to cry over, that the majority of the my friends are unable to attend my baby shower. I have no illusions that my decision to have a kid automatically puts me at the center of everyone else's universe. Most of my friends are friends because we share similar personality traits – such as a deep and abiding aversion to baby showers. That friend C would rather attend a baby shower then play trophy wife indicates the true awfulness of her upcoming afternoon. And to add a level of absurdity to my tears, friend D and I have a very cordial, but not close relationship, which would not exist if I her husband and I had not known each other from a very young age.

As the alien's due date grows closer, the conversations between J and myself on how to handle visitors after the alien's birth grow more contentious. No matter how many times and ways I attempt to communicate to J that I am not going to be up to handling twelve+ emotionally demanding and manipulative people descending on our small house at the same time, he does not understand and does not seem interested in trying. Repeated attempts to discuss the issue, links to metafilter threads and articles on the topic of handling visitors after bringing a new baby home, detailed explanations of the biological processes that occur in a woman's body after delivery and suggestions that he talk to coworkers and acquaintances who have recently had children all seem to have fallen on deaf ears. As far as J is concerned, his family's method of descending like a plague of locusts upon the hospital room of mother and child an hour after birth is perfectly acceptable. (2)

J feels he needs the help and support during the first few weeks, and wants that help and support to come in the form of his parents and family. I want and need to know that the needs of myself and our child overrule the whims of his family (and my own), even if it means that some family members end up with hurt feelings.

They already disapprove of some of my decisions. They don't understand why we are not coming to celebrate Christmas. They don't understand why I'm seeing midwives instead of an OB. They don't understand why I want to use a birthing center instead of a hospital. They don't understand why I would want the minimum number of interventions during labor. They don't like that I have said they should stay home while I'm in labor and that we will tell them when it is OK to visit. They don't like that they will have to drive 40 miles to visit us.

They will not like that they will not be permitted to visit without an explicit invitation. They will not like that they will be permitted only to stay a finite amount of time and will be expected (and asked) to leave if they exceed the time set. They will not like that they will not be permitted to hold the alien until hands are washed. And they will hate fact that I do not intend to go anywhere but the doctor's office until at least six weeks after the alien's arrival.

I. Don't. Care. that they will be uncomfortable.

(1) Playing trophy wife (or husband) is shorthand for any function in which the “trophy” is required to dress up and behave in a pleasant, vacuous manner to impress the boss and/or coworkers of the spouse.
(2) J's originally proposed solution to handling visitors was to suggest that I recuperate at his parents home for a couple of weeks, because their home is larger and it would be “more convenient for visitors”.