"it's a big ball of unbelievable excitement and sheer terror"
that's what I somewhat jokingly (but completely seriously) confessed to someone yesterday who I've never met and had only yesterday talked to
"you just summed up motherhood perfectly"
is what she said in return
and for whatever reason that's probably the most comforting thing I've been told thus far. for the last 8 weeks I have somehow carried on my daily activities while simultaneously existing in an all consuming state of disbelief, fear, thankfulness, wonder, bewilderment, terror, doubt, curiosity and near-bursting happiness cloaked in equally suffocating caution.
It is everything and nothing like I thought it would be. It's its own thing. Which shouldn't be surprising, but is. Probably because of the obvious fact that it's never happened to me before.
The duration of January was spent in complete submission to a protective instinct that was so ferocious it amazed even me. I was distinctly aware of every single thing that could jeopardize something I had absolutely no clue how to effectively protect. It is winter, it is flu season, people coughing and sneezing everywhere. I drove with my car's vents off so less exhaust would come in, bad smells made me immediately cover my face, not giving a damn who might see me. I saw(see), and cursed (curse), every. single. cigarette. When Rob casually used his dinner knife to cut a piece of butter it infuriated me. How could he not know bacteria were everywhere? What do you mean that food is "probably okay" after sitting out over night?"....how could he be so selfish and cluelss...how could he not FEEL the frantic I was feeling?
haha (pretty damn easy)
And then there was the subtle pain. Every cramp. Every twinge. Every little feeling would send me to the bathroom. Turns out there's a lot of that early on. No one told me about it but I'll never forget it so that hopefully one day I can reassure someone, even if it's myself. Little pains were something I was afraid of and relied on on a daily basis. When they subsided I wanted them back. When they arrived, I prayed they would go away as quietly as they came.
Everything you read about early pregnancy is a congratulation with a warning. "miscarriage," "25%" and "not uncommon" are repeated in the same sentences over and over on every site. Just when I'd start to feel a little less apprehensive, just when I'd think "hmm, that's a cute maternity bathing suit" something would come along that would shatter any confidence I'd had the audacity of having. Viscious cycle.
While we could have had it sooner, our first doppler is next week. Google what to expect from that and somewhere on whatever page you read you'll find a thread of sad mothers who excitedly arrived at their first doppler or ultrasound only to be met with quiet nurses and the news that it was gone. Some women went a month or more thinking they were still pregnant only to find the fetus had "died" at 4 or 6 weeks. I mean, the shit that can happen is TERRIBLE!!! That day Rob came home from work to find me sitting in the dark crying on the couch with the laptop glaring evil in my face.....once you read it it's hard to stop. The horror stories go on an on.
And notice I said "while we could have had it sooner"....some doctors just aren't in a rush to get things going when they find out it's your first pregnancy. The only rationality that consistently makes sense is that damned 25% factor is f'ing real and no one is in a rush to get excited. Our midwife is wonderful, calm, intelligent....I'm 100% confident we made a great choice, and when I said we were in no major hurries it seemed and felt like the right answer, if there is one. I asked her about the dreaded 25% and she nodded and said yes but you can't focus on that. And that was it. I think if we were an anxious couple she would have obliged us whatever we wanted, but I said we'd go on her suggestions, so I'll be verging on the second trimester marker (hopefully) when we finally hear a heartbeat. It doesn't alarm me, but time can be a blessing and a curse. I don't know that I would, or knowing me, could, do anything different, it's just that way.
But the fears and dreads are things you cannot say to anyone. I made the mistake of sharing what I read with my aunt and she reacted as if I'd uttered a witch's curse. I immediately understood and felt awkward at the complex irony of reality. These are fears that are based on reality but you have to tuck them deep inside and can never say them out loud. They are things that scare people who want to be happy. So, you get to be the lonely keeper. Not that I'm completely alone. I sometimes feel bad that Rob is the one to bear the burden of having me as a pregnant wife and all the highs and lows and bizarre emergences. Many days I have been an alien even to myself. And he is eternally patient and reassuring, or at least is putting on an act of his own (but then aren't we all).
But...when people ask me how I feel (most common question ever) I can only say I feel great. I do. I've never felt bad, just major changes going on. But I feel better now than I did 3 weeks ago. And hell if I know if that's normal or not. I feel less boggy and have more energy. I can sometimes stay awake past 9:30 pm. The fact that we ever got a positive test is still unbelievable. The fact that I'm 31 about to be 32 and this is really happening. That our baby (hypothetically since we still haven't "seen" anything) is supposed to be "the size of a large plum," has fingers, toes, a nervous system, and is about to start forming organs....I mean...wow! This has got to be one of the most amazing things to live through and have absolutely nothing to show for it (yet). The idea that if all goes well we'll have to dig a hole in the beach sand for me to get sun on the backs of my legs, that makes me laugh. That timing lent itself perfectly to telling my mom on her favorite holiday of the year -- priceless. Having just about the most excited and thrilled family ever known to mankind is a wonderful and humbling and happy thing. Finally having little dreams of who this person might be is fascinating.....that it's always a little girl makes me want to go have an ultrasound tomorrow to see what's really going on. Did we really ever think we wanted a boy first? because it doesn't make a bit of a difference now. It's a really really hard thing to describe.
It's a big damn ball of excitement and terror.
So those responding words coming from a woman I didn't know, who didn't know me--a mother of a 10 year old with learning problems and 6 year old with a powerful personality....they felt like a big, clean band-aid with a giant goop of pain relieving neosporin on it. And the fear wound healed just a little bit and reminded me that none of us have a lick of control and life is going to continue so we'd better just do our best to hang on.
There's my first official prego blog. Boom. And a lot shorter than it could have been!
