DiaryINDEX｜past｜will
| 2003年03月29日(土) | マタニティ日記 |
下記はMSN ARABIA WOMENからの引用です。ダリアリズウィックは３週間以内に
初めての赤ちゃんを授かる予定です。アメリカ合衆国の最高裁で働いている女性なのかな？彼女のご両親はイスラエルに住んでいるのね。
diary A weeklong electronic journal.
Dahlia Lithwick is Slate's Supreme Court and legal correspondent. She is expecting her first baby in three weeks.
Subject: Entry 1
Monday, March 17, 2003, at 12:02 PM PT
A brief, precatory disclaimer, for those of you reading this week's "Diary" in the hopes of gaining life-changing insight on the inner workings of the U.S. Supreme Court: I am 36 weeks pregnant and change. Which means that at any moment now, my belly button will simply pop out with a ping and the Wee Bald Stranger will be cooked—like a blueberry Poptart. If this Diary ends abruptly, say tomorrow, know that I am draped over a yoga ball at the maternity ward, furiously attempting to draft up my own divorce agreement while cursing my husband, Aaron, in languages I didn't even know I spoke.
I'm telling you this because I've discovered that the principal hardship of pregnancy lies in months of pretending that you are a rational, competent professional, even when you are, in truth, a sweaty preverbal beast. I have become expert at filing stories, doing radio interviews, and editing copy, while fluffy white bunnies frolic through my prefrontal cortex, scattering chocolate and cheese popcorn and the occasional Heineken in their wake. It's been like this for months. Which is why I am deeply relieved—in the most sexist way imaginable—that Don Rumsfeld is not expecting twins next month.
This brings me to Iraq: Don't think that just because I am not writing about this war, it's not edging even the bunnies out of my mind this morning. My parents live in Israel, where Saddam's scuds are now pointed. But denial is extremely taxing work. Which brings me to this weekend …
Maternity clothes make you look like the baby you are carrying
My husband and I started childbirth classes last week, and it's clear that childbirth class exists for one reason only: To make couples wonder—now that it's way too late—how they could possibly have chosen the person beside them as their life partner. I was 35 weeks pregnant, to-do lists having made sleep impossible weeks earlier, when Aaron turned to me mid-class and whispered cheerfully: "This class is really helpful. It's replacing my denial with all sorts of useful new skills. Like panic."
Women in childbirth classes mostly look at their partners the way we look at pictures of the placenta—with naked horror. When they handed out the rubber babies last week, Aaron, the sculptor, immediately squashed its head flat between his hands to make the eyes bulge out. The R.N. teaching the class promptly pushed the red button under her desk that direct dials Child Protective Services.
We. Are. So. Screwed.
So, my day. Like most of the writers and journalists who diary for Slate, I can say with some confidence that I don't actually do anything all that interesting with my time. I pretty much read and write. Like a first-grader but without the lunchbox-fights. I read what people are saying about the law and then write what I think about the law. Then I do it again.
Dear God. I have to write 350 more words in 35 minutes. Which is only 20 minutes measured in Oreo™ years. (I began to measure time in units of Oreo-eating at Month 6, and it's become second nature. I will doubtless time my contractions in Oreo units as well.)
The circle of life
Unlike most of the Slate staff, I work out of my home much of the time, in Charlottesville, Va., a 90-minute drive from D.C. (700 Oreo years in traffic.) As this birth gets closer, I spend a lot less time in Washington, which is difficult as the homosexual sodomy and affirmative-action cases approach and as the John Lee Malvo and Zacarias Moussaoui trials gather steam. These are all cases I'd have liked to tell my grandkids about, but it seems the only way to get grandkids is to have this baby in early April as planned. It helps that there are daffodils and crocuses sneaking out of the dirt wherever I look today. I feel a little more a part of that Lion King Circle-of-Life deal, which is a lovely place to be while pregnant.
I am planning to sit outside and finish reading the new Sandra Day O'Connor book, which is due out this spring. The book is maddening in all the ways books by the Supreme Court justices tend to be maddening: There is such a determined effort to be magisterial and remote that you end up just wanting to holler: "But what is your favorite color, Sandy?" "What is your favorite TV show?" Why do the justices think we want to read yet another take on constitutional history, when they are uniquely poised to tell us about the mechanics of doing justice?
I fell asleep last night fantasizing a future Supreme Court justice who strolls around in a John Deere hat, munching Doritos and granting interviews to anyone who asks. Someone human and accessible. Chirping away about what really happens behind the red curtain. Somewhere around 2 a.m., though, the justice became my Wee Bald Stranger. Every dream ends with the Wee Bald Stranger these days. And I was awake and wide-eyed for the rest of the night.
私が今もし妊娠しているとして、心づけてくれる祖母は、父方の祖母だが、４０過ぎてから末っ子の父を生んでいるみたいだ。父が結婚して子供を作る頃にもまだまだ元気だったが、私が幼稚園の頃に、倒れた。脳血栓。祖父は先にいってしまうし、この辺になるとちょっと悲惨だ。なるべく子供の世話にならないようにしたいよなあ。とかいいつつ、もう既に息子にごみ捨てなどを頼んでしまう私。
今だったら、もっとリハビリの仕方もあるかもしれないな。倒れた人でも本人は大変だろうが、見た目はまた元のように回復してきたりしているお年よりもあるみたいだし。
昨日は白米を全く混ぜないで玄米を炊いてみました。今までどうして白米を食べて
いたのかしらと思います。
月並みな言葉が歯がゆいが、戦争は本当にいやだ。人間であることが重たいと言う友達を思う。
新聞のコラムに、キムジョンイル総書記が出てこないのは何を企んでいるのかと
あったが、私は、北朝鮮に何の義理もないけれども、北朝鮮が核を持っているからといって戦争を起こす気はないと思う。それは、小泉首相が靖国神社を参拝しても
それが戦争を再び起こしたいためではないのと同様に。
はかなくないものはないとしても。
Someone may try to sell you something fantastic today. Be aware of the tendency to believe too quickly, too deeply, or to become dependent on things or people that seem to offer quick and easy answers to life's deepest yearnings. Watch your driving so as not to exceed the speed limit today. You may have to help put an end to a dispute this afternoon--buy a little time to think through your answer. Loved ones can be puzzling today. This is one of those days where it may be best to leave well enough alone. You may have some difficulty speaking or getting your ideas across to others. However, you could gain some insights while shopping with loved ones this evening--really! Find ways in which to channel your intensity or passion.
アメリカもフランスもインドも核を持っているのに、どうして北朝鮮やイラクの核開発は断じて認められないのだろう？北朝鮮が自衛するのもイラクが自衛するのも当然ではないか。一生懸命やってきたのに悪者扱いされて。怒るのは自然だ。
でもそれで死ぬのは怒った独裁者ではなくて逃げ遅れた民衆か。やっぱり不条理。
イラクの民衆が貿易センターを壊したわけじゃないのに。みんな事故に遭っている
ようなものじゃないか。私が事故に遭ったってちっともおかしくない。
それにしてもどうしてこないのかな。あがってしまったのか。子供ができないなら
あがってもいいかもね。
日本を守る為にアメリカが必要とは思わない。どうしたって死ぬときは死ぬのだ。
善良なアメリカ人を日本の保険や人間の盾ににしようとしたってただわが身可愛さが露呈されただけだな。
