If there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that sometimes I’m like a dog with a bone. It can be really hard for me to let go of a thought, especially a fear, once it’s been inserted into my line of thinking and I think that’s why it’s been so hard for me to accept that this pregnancy might actually end up in bringing home a baby.<\/p>\n
It doesn’t make sense, I know. This pregnancy has been about as “easy” as a pregnancy can be and I’ve never personally experienced a loss. I have been “lucky” so far, we got pregnant on the first try, we had strong, perfectly rising betas, followed by textbook ultrasounds and basically no cramps or early bleeding to speak of. <\/p>\n
And yet, I can’t help but feel like it’s all a set up. Like the universe is setting me up for a great big fall. I can’t get that thought out of my head and it’s kept me petrified throughout. I don’t talk about it much, not even to Paul, but it’s always there. After each rising beta, I worried, what if the baby died immediately following my last beta? After each ultrasound, I worried, what if the baby died right after the last ultrasound? What if all the pushing and prodding from the ultrasound hurt the baby? After we started telling people, I worried, what if we have to untell? And now that I’m in the third trimester, after each time people talk to me about how close it’s getting and how great it is, I worry, what if this all ends badly? <\/p>\n
During the first trimester, I worried everytime I went to the bathroom and everytime I felt any kind of dampness “down there.” I was constantly worried that the baby’s heart would just stop for no reason, because that seems to be what happens during the first trimester. Then during the second trimester I started having dreams that I was giving birth too early. I worried about my cervical length, I worried about cramps, I worried that I was leaking amniotic fluid, I worried incessantly that I would go into preterm labor before the baby could survive. <\/p>\n
And now that I’m in the third trimester? My new thing is to worry about placental abruption and cord accidents. I freak out everytime this kid gets the hiccups (which is a LOT – like 2-5x per day) especially because I think the energy he expends hiccuping makes him fall asleep after, which means I feel hiccups for about 5-10min and then nothing. I worry when he doesn’t move enough, I worry when he moves too much. I KNOW it’s normal for mother’s to worry but it feels like I’ve gone past the healthy amount of worrying into my old destructive habit of “ruminating thoughts” as my psychiatrist of yesteryear once put it. I mean, I get ultrasounds every two weeks that have ALL confirmed the baby is growing just fine and the cord is not wrapped around his neck (or at least wasn’t as of the last ultrasound) and I still can’t let go of the fact that something might be wrong.<\/p>\n
What also doesn’t help are the websites that say to trust your intuition. That often the first signs of something being wrong is simply the feeling that something is wrong. But when I’m honest with myself I always<\/i> feel like something is wrong and yet so far (knock on wood) nothing has been. And I’m so sick that I’m honestly afraid that just writing that here will cause something Bad to happen. <\/p>\n
Of course, logically speaking, this all simply goes back to the fact that I don’t really trust my body. It has inexplicably failed before and the thought that it could do that again, now, is incredibly disturbing. Especially since I have no choice but to keep trusting that it isn’t going to. Blind faith. In something that is NOT infallible, as I well know.<\/p>\n
Yesterday marked 30 weeks and people keep asking whether the nursery is done, whether I’ve started nesting yet, etc. Nope. We have nothing. Well, we have a few outfits (unwashed) and a few other items that remain stashed inside a box in our storage room. Paul’s best friend’s wife is due one day before me (seriously) and they already have a crib, changing table, a huge collection of cloth diapers and tons of other stuff. Clearly, they are not the least bit afraid of not bringing a baby home in 10 weeks. <\/p>\n
I have no reason to think otherwise either but it’s like my brain is still in defense mode. I’m still afraid to have baby things in the house. <\/p>\n
And the strange thing is, as reality sets in, the reality that, this baby inside me is growing bigger and stronger every day (as I can tell by his kicks), the chances are that he is coming home, hopefully in 7-9 weeks, I feel so unprepared for it. As though I’m just NOW starting to realize, um, hey we’re going to be parents. There’s actually going to be this very tiny person who’s completely dependent on us for everything and we will be responsible for raising him. Our lives are going to change, drastically so. I’ve been so preoccupied with worrying about the baby surviving inside my womb that I never started mentally preparing myself for what happens when he’s living life on the outside.<\/p>\n
Probably should get on that…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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