It’s only a change of time

March 22, 2011
It’s been hard for me to write about this pregnancy – I think it has something to do with the huge anxiety mess that I carry around with me every minute of every day. We’re almost at that 24 week place of viability – not that I want her to come early, at all, but the fact is that every day that passes is one more day we’re closer to meeting this little girl, and I’m going to have to recognize that we should probably start preparing for her arrival.

Every day I look into the guest bedroom that will become hers and say to myself, “maybe today.” Maybe today I’ll spend time peeling glow in the dark stars off of the ceiling, spackeling, and re-painting it. Maybe today we’ll go to the store and buy the perfect shade of gray paint to go on her walls. Maybe today we’ll order the vinyl decals that we’d like to adorn the walls with. Maybe today.

But I can’t quite do that yet. Slowly, baby things are making their way into our home. A friend sends some adorable outfits that she loved on her daughter. We buy some second hand diapers. We buy a few new diapers. We research car seats and strollers and decide which ones we like.  We actually register for baby stuff at the big store where until very recently I couldn’t even walk in to without my eyes starting to well up into big wet balls of sadness. I unearth deeply hidden away infant and baby care books. I tell my mother in law that it’s ok if she brings up the nursery furniture she’s graciously giving to us. We move forward.

But my brain stays two steps behind. It wants to know if J has felt the baby kick today. And how many times? Are they getting stronger? Do you feel ok? Do you think she’s ok? Maybe we could just listen to her (again) with the doppler to make sure she’s ok. Maybe you had too much sugar today. Maybe you should have some ice cream because sugar makes her kick. It’s tragic in a way, and I can feel the idiocity (new word) of it all as it escapes my mouth. I wish I could just be quiet, and let my brain calm, and remember that things are probably ok. But I know of, and know too many who made it to this point and still didn’t take live babies home. And I play games in my head like, if X happened to someone I know, it’s not likely it’ll happen to us. But Y still could. And so could Z, and probably a million other bad things that I know are out there. And I know that once we pass 24 weeks, and then 25, and 26, and so on, that my fears will shift from the actual pregnancy to the actual birth and all the bad things that could happen there. And then I hope it goes away when she is here, and hope I’m not doubting every parenting move that I make from day one to the time she decides she’s ready to go out on her own, and then I’ll worry when I don’t hear from her for a few days.

And I know I sound like a crazy person, like I should probably be medicated (and maybe I should be)  but then, then I take a deep breath. And I let my heart lead the way. Because I am so incredibly in love with this little girl already. And I’m trying to refuse thinking of living a life without her in it.

And then I have hope.


  1. the worrying never stops, but the joy and wonder take the space of some of it. thinking of you gals often.

  2. you are not a crazy person. you are a good mom, who loves her kid and wants the best for her ~ and thank you for writing about the worry. i will be 40 this year, and my mom worries over me and i am all “quit it, please” and she says “i worry more as you get older, cuz i have had you LONGER!!!” :}

    congrats to you both, and please say “hi baby” from Aunt Gypsy ❤

  3. I felt really similarly for much of my pregnancy. Maybe I used it all up, because by toddlerhood I was fairly mellow. Maybe not mellow. Maybe that’s too strong. I’d just say I am not as tightly wound a mother as I thought I would be. Infancy was hard but somewhere in that first year I started to relax. You will be an excellent mother.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: