Mon 26 Sep 2005
The Structural Conversation of Being Pregnant
Posted by Liza under Training and Development, Pregnancy
This wasn’t the focus of my class last weekend, but it came up out of one of the earlier classes and I’ve been thinking about it recently.
In class, we distinguished several different types of communication, including one we call a "structural conversation." By that, we mean the ways that objects — including human beings — relate to other objects. (Yesterday we watched Inside the Actor’s Studio with Jodie Foster as the guest, and she talked about how a particular gesture she found in the character Nell automatically makes her cry — that’s an example of a structural conversation.)
For the last few days, I’ve been really present to being pregnant as a structural conversation.
For most of my life, let’s say since around age 4 or 5, I haven’t paid much attention to my body. It mostly did what I wanted it to, when I wanted it to — if I drop a pen, I pick it up without thinking. As I get ready to fall asleep, I roll over from my left side to my right, and then back again, also without thinking.
It doesn’t work that way any more.
When I drop a pen, and move to lean over and pick it up, it gets uncomfortable way before I can actually reach the pen.
Instead, I have to orient myself so that I’m directly facing the thing I want to pick up, and then either squat down to pick it up, or move my feet apart so I can lean forward and not squish Smudge against my thighs. And when I lean, I need to bend from my hips instead of at the waist.
One of Jill’s nicknames for me is Captain Oblivion, and it stems in part from my inattentiveness to the physical world. As I walk around life, I bump into doorways, corners of furniture, and stub my toes on things. Frequently.
This has also changed since Smudge’s presence became obvious.
I’m paying more attention, but it isn’t working. My body isn’t the size I think it is. There’s not a Liza-sized space between the kitchen table and the half-wall; there’s an unpregnant Liza-sized space there. Roughly.
Or put another way, I’m paying more attention to the objects around me, but not to my own body.
It’ll be interesting to see how this evolves as I get bigger.
September 26th, 2005 at 5:30 pm
Well, then we must be related, although you come from the military and I come from the royalty branches of the family.
Your new cousin,
Princess Oblivious.
September 26th, 2005 at 8:31 pm
You do recall that “Captain Oblivion” has been my name for Neil for years? When he really blows it he becomes Major Oblivion, and when he REALLY REALLY blows it he becomes General Oblivion.
I have to give him credit too, of course — sometimes he keeps his cluelessness to himself, and then he’s Private Oblivion.
September 26th, 2005 at 10:32 pm
Leta, this is too perfect.
You see, I’ve been explaining to Reno for some time that I wish there was some way for the two of you to meet. My exact words were “Leta is one of US.”
And Reno, unbelievably, I’d forgotten that choice tidbit. I don’t think I’m *quite* at Neil’s level, though.
September 27th, 2005 at 7:35 pm
Hi Leta! Always good to meet another of US. You’re the one whose wonderful bird-watching thing Liza pointed me toward, aren’t you?
September 27th, 2005 at 8:48 pm
*chortle*
Reno, I read that and I was immediately transported to a moment in Madison, walking near Lake Monona, where you pointed to a bird and said something like “what’s that?”
I said “a bird.”
You answered with all sorts of detail about the bill and tailfeathers, and maybe a question about the bill, trying to actually identify what KIND of bird.
I think I next said, helpfully, “a brown bird?”
Perhaps when you visit me in Atlanta, you can identify the bird that lives in a tree in my yard. So far, what I know about it is that it is a loud bird.