It’s been tough to want to write, considering I wasn’t able to write about the fact that we’re expecting until this week. Mostly that’s what’s been on my mind, in various degrees. We are so grateful. It was a scary thing, to admit that we were ready to try again after our loss in February. The fear was overwhelming at first, and then the excitement came close after. It’s amazing how those two emotions can coexist. It’s also amazing how many questions can come up in such a short time.
I read an article about a 3 year old boy who had no friends show up to his party. Then I thought, oh dear Lord, what if my son has no friends come to a party? How will he make friends at 3? What am I supposed to be doing to ensure my child has friends? Did I have friends at 3? Is that a realistic expectation? I can’t remember when I first had a party with people outside of my family, but I think I had to be like, 7 or 8. Isn’t that more realistic? It certainly sounds more reasonable. Also, my child is going to be sorely disappointed if he thinks every year he’s going to have a party like he’s turning 16. I want him to know he’s loved, I don’t want him to think he’s entitled. It’s our job as parents to teach him the difference.
Daycare for two children is a lot of money. A LOT. Of money. We have about 9 month to figure out what we’re going to do. Pay things off, save every penny, quit spending on things we don’t need, etc. No more hair color for me, Andrew quit smoking thank God, so no more cigarettes for him. No more eating out because we don’t feel like cooking. A dinner out once or twice a month is fine. A coffee run once or twice is fine. We just need to rein it in a bit. I say this all the time, but now that the chances of this baby making it to term have increased, it has allowed us to have more hope, and also to start planning differently.
It’s been a challenge to enjoy this pregnancy thus far. Mostly because for the first 12 weeks, I was waiting for bad news. When I saw the heartbeat at our 12 week appointment I just cried. I didn’t realize how afraid I was, or what a relief it would be, until it happened. I would be lying if I said the fear was gone, or if I said now I’m sure everything will be ok. I’m not, and I don’t know that there will come a point in this pregnancy where I will feel that way. I don’t think we’ll have another child, so this is my last shot at being pregnant. I’ve been consumed with fear, and obsessions, and guilt, and it’s kept me from enjoying things the way I’d like. I can’t say “the way I should” because honestly, I’m not sure there is a “right” way to enjoy pregnancy. Sometimes it downright sucks. Other times, it’s the best. Either way, we’re done after 2, so my time to start enjoying being pregnant is now. I hear that fear during pregnancy after loss is normal, so I’m trying not to be too hard on myself about it all.
We are thrilled to be having a baby girl. I’m also experiencing all those things that moms go through when adding a child to a family of 3. Am I taking time away from Carson too soon? Will he still love me as much if there’s another baby that needs my attention? Will the guilt ever go away? Will we ever sleep again? How are we going to afford everything? Then the good stuff comes. What will she look like? Will she have dark hair? Will she love being outside like Carson or will she want to be indoors?
Excited and apprehensive. That isn’t so bad, right?