March 29, 2006

Amnesia

Back when I was in college, I witnessed an argument between what would be my future in-laws. My father-in-law stated that women have built in amnesia; as in, women don’t remember the pain of childbirth after the baby is born. My mother-in-law completely disagreed, and said that she remembered the pain and vividly. I sort of agree with both of them. I have given birth to two babies. While I remember that it hurt like hell (I’m one of those "No drugs thanks; I’d rather scream" women), I can’t put myself back in the moment of that intense pain and re-experience the actual pain again (thank goodness for that!).

I think the amnesia about certain things is a reality. When I was pregnant for the second time, I developed gestational diabetes. I had to stick myself at least four times a day to check blood sugars and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it 100% sucked. I swore I was done with having kids. Lil C would be my last. The finger sticks only seemed bad until active labor started. I distinctly remember telling my husband, "It’s all coming back to me now." I remembered the pain of having my first daughter. It’s a very physical memory, like your body remembers but your mind forgets.

However, after an amazing delivery where my midwife actually had me reach down, grab my baby under her arms and bring her into this world, I couldn’t be so sure. Those finger stick couldn’t have been that bad, right? The experience of giving birth to Lil C was just so overwhelmingly good that it made all the non-stress tests, endless appointments, and finger sticks seem not so bad that I couldn’t go through it one more time if I had to or wanted to have a third baby.

As I tested for 5th kyu green belt tonight (green belt with two brown stripes), I couldn’t help but wonder at what point the amnesia starts. It seems that with the second pregnancy, my amnesia started much earlier than the actual birth process. During class tonight, my instructor asked me to lead our small class of youngsters in Pinan Nidan (kata 4); or in other words, the kata that I had to do properly in order to be promoted to the green belt that I earned about eight weeks before I gave birth to my daughter. I took my place in front of the dojo and commenced with Pinan Shodan (kata 5), the wrong kata. My instructor stopped me and asked me again to do Pinan Nidan. It took her standing there starting the first few moves of the kata until I remembered which kata I was supposed to be doing. Half way through the kata, I was stuck again. What is up with that? I ~~know~~ knew this kata by heart! Eventually, I got my stuff together and finished the kata; but seriously, what an example for the 5, 6, and 8 year old students in my class. I mean, duh!

I felt like a complete idiot. I pride myself on being on top of things, and that includes my karate. So, at the end of class, it was time for me to test. My instructor called me up to do the waza (small series of moves) that was required. I made it through that without a problem. Then came my kata. Let me just tell you that when you are first learning a new kata, it feels so insanely awkward. Eventually, though, you develop a flow and the moves just come to you. The more you do them, the more they sink in. It’s a good feeling.

This kata, this Pinan Shodan, is a serious pain in my butt. No matter how many times I do it, I can not seem to get the rhythm of it down. I know the moves. I know what it’s supposed to look like, but I just can’t make it look like that. Tonight was no exception. I can stand in my kitchen, living room or basement and get it right, but when it’s crunch time? Not a chance. I won’t pain you with all the details. Let’s just say it involved starting over several times, some awkward kick and cat stance that was so not working for me, and finally my instructor said, "You passed, now just do it right."

I was a high school English teacher. I stood in front of five sections of at least 26 students every single day for almost two years. I taught Shakespeare, grammar, and novels and not once was there ever a jitter. Tonight, in front of three kids (one mine), their parents, and my instructor . . .you would have thought I drank a quart of high octane coffee. I was shaking, jittery, sweating. . . it’s absolutely insane! For the first time, I actually felt like I did not deserve this promotion. It felt lousy.

I’m not the kind of person to make excuses, but if you forced me. . . I would have to say that I believe that my brain cells were forever altered during the course of my second pregnancy and birth. When it comes to karate, I have little or no recollection of what happened in the two months leading up to Lil C’s birth. It’s just like how my memory has been altered about dealing with the nuisance of gestational diabetes.

If I was forced to provide a second excuse, I would have to say that taking karate class with Big I lately has been, well, nothing short of a gigantic challenge. While the other kids are standing there listening to instructors, my Big I is fixing her hair in the mirror, smiling at herself and tossing her hair around. She also takes frequent bathroom breaks while there; and if you know her, you know the kid can go HOURS without a visit to the loo. Sometimes, when it’s all just too much effort, she sprawls out on the floor and yawns until I glare and tell her to "please stand up." Add to that the fact that if anyone other than me speaks to her (including our instructor who she has now known for two years!!!), she instantly tilts her head, ear to her shoulder and looks at me with puppy dog eyes, like "Mommy, I don’t have to talk, right?" I am starting to believe that all my, "Don’t talk to strangers" paranoia has been taken too far. I am beginning to suspect that we may need to have a talk and better define the term "strangers." I am also feeling the need to explain to her that spontaneous naps when out in public or in the presence of other people are just not appropriate. Then again, this may be genetic because my dad is renowned for his ability to sleep in just about any situation.

I am also seeing an unsettling trend with Big I. When partner work is required, like it was tonight, she is all too eager to take her turn whaling the bo in my direction. The benefit for me is that there is truly a real threat in the form of a staff wielding 5-year old who is just plain ticked off that we’re not having McDonald’s for dinner tonight. I have to work to keep my ankles from being taken out, and she gets her aggressions out, I guess. For this promotion I was also required to do a bo kata. When I pre-tested, my instructor warned me that I need to make sure I am always keeping the bo level. I am fully aware that the reason why my bo is not level, is because there is a certain 5-year old who is always standing way too close to me when we do that particular kata. So, instead of keeping a level bo, I am forced to avoid beaning my child in the head with the bo which requires evasive (non-level) maneuvers. Tonight, as we were practicing this kata, my instructor asked me if Big I knew this kata at all. My only reply? "Giddy-up," because to Big I, her bo (which is actually a dowel from Home Depot), is nothing more than a horsey. She has way too active an imagination.

I am also fully aware that I need to spend more time at karate. Before Lil C was born, I went one night without Big I, and it did wonders for my karate. I need to get back to that. (As my husband reads this, his head will drop into his hands and he will quietly sob. "Me, alone with both of the girls? You, away for several classes a week?") Mr. B, I’m sorry; it’s sad but true.

The childbirth-related amnesia may be partially to blame for my lackluster kata tonight. Maybe I need to take some time each day to get back in touch with my karate warrior self. Unfortunately though, the lousy feeling of screwing up tonight won’t soon be forgotten. You just don’t get to pick and choose your amnesia moments.