The heart is a muscle the size of a fist

It’s been 11 days since the United States elected a narcissistic fascist. Less than 2 weeks. When we had our first ultrasound to look at Tiny, Obama was still the president. No time at all.

And yet, those 11 days have brought even more calamity than I anticipated. Between November 9th and January 19th, I managed to steel some resolve and also deny the reality of a Trump presidency. I didn’t see this coming. I was devastated and shocked after the election but I also somehow believed maybe it would ‘all be ok.’

It’s not ok.

I don’t need to list the insanity happening; all of you know and care deeply about these things too. So I won’t tell you that.

I’ll tell you that I currently vascillate between a paralyzing anxiety that fills my entire chest with heavy dread and a buoyant hope for the ways I see people resisting. On Sunday night I lay awake thinking of all the terror that could come from Steve Bannon sitting at DJT’s right hand, an actual white supremecist nationalist fucking NAZI sitting on the security council. I thought about martial law, civil war, coup d’etats. Am I being hyperbolic? Maybe. Also, maybe not.

Then I see thousands of people appear at a moment’s notice at airports across the country to protest the xenophobic executive order and its horrific implementation, and I think maybe things will not descend into the darkness I imagine in the middle of the night.

But I’m scared, because there is so much. How do we stay informed, stay mad, stay hopeful, stay engaged? When horror is being lobbed out daily, how can you keep up and keep fighting? I don’t know. I guess we have to figure that out together.

We are showing up however we can, whenever we can. And Ansel is bringing joy and hope to my heart, something I am grateful for daily. Last night he held my hand while we ate dinner and jumped on the bed and kissed my mouth holding my face in his hands. I don’t know what I’d do without him. But I think he’s feeling the anxiety too. Last night he wouldn’t go back to sleep from 2am to 4am, not until I eventually put him in our bed. He screamed going to the sitter, which he’s never done before. He’s such a sensitive little love, how could he not pick up on all of this?

The good news, though, is this:

Today, we saw Tiny move their flippered feet and hands, dancing like mad in L’s uterus. They waved and danced, over and over. Tiny is in there and alive and in a few more months there will be another human being to love in our family. Maybe this is foolish? Of course it is. But we do it anyway. Your heart is a muscle the size of your fist – keep loving, keep fighting.

And here’s some pictures to cheer you up as well. From the toddler antifa block and some more cutesy announcement photos we had taken (we’ll go public following the results of next week’s cffDNA test) and today’s ultrasound:

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I KNOW I misspelled fascism . . .sorry. 😦

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11 thoughts on “The heart is a muscle the size of a fist

  1. First, those announcement photos are the best. So sweet. So much happy. Second–the other stuff. The other night we were lying in bed and I asked Catch if things were worse than she expected or on par with what she expected. She said things were on par. I was surprised, because I feel like things are worse than I expected. I mean, I have hated this man from Day 1, but I truly didn’t believe it was going to be quite as bad as all of the worst case scenarios that floated around pre-election. I thought it would be lousy, but we’d get through it like we got through baby Bush. (Not that that stopped me from fighting like hell to keep him out! I mean, it’s not like Bush 2.0 was something to aspire to.) But holy crap, I was so, so wrong. This is just madness. I started using my long-forgotten twitter account yesterday because I needed a better outlet for my anger/frustration.

  2. I have been a bit frozen for the last couple weeks. I know I need to stay informed and figure out what I can do, but I’m so full of anxiety and fear. I just can’t get past “how could this happe?” I need a hugs from another adult but that’s not gonna happen.

    The pictures are adorable and I hope all continues to go smoothly.

  3. The announcement is SUUUUPER cute! Also, I’m totally loving your new hair. The three of you (soon to be four) make the most stylish family. I’ve been feeling so much anxiety and fear after this weekend, it’s barely manageable. Every day I wake up to a new nightmare. I try to be as mindful and playful with my kid as possible- but the FB feed on my phone sucks me in sometimes when I should be devoting my energy to him. It’s hard.

  4. Love the pictures. My heart is so heavy for you all. I know I keep saying it and really it’s not the answer to run away but if it comes down to a matter of physical safety know that there is always somewhere for you to stay with us

  5. Good grief. I don’t even live in your country and I have the same disabling anxiety (finding it harder to hold fast to hope – the industrial scale hate seems so vast these days). Those announcement photos are the best. And Ansel… well. There just aren’t words. He’ll be a hard act to follow!

  6. Omgoodness those announcement photos are the best. Also we need more toddlers against fascism (it’s okay, I spell it wrong constantly too).
    I keep trying to focus on the good – all those people showing up and showing love. All my friends coming together and spouting hope and acceptance and peace. We are greater than the hate. There are more people who voted for Hillary / didn’t vote for Cheeto McFascist than there are those who support him. On top of that, I’ve seen quite a few people who voted for Cheeto who now regret that decision. I just hope and pray we can last until midterms and all that frustration/anger/fear can be channeled into fixing the Senate and the House.
    In the meantime: #RESIST

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