** I’m about to piss people off. I’m sorry in advance. Please do not read this if you are pregnant, trying to become pregnant or have recently lost a pregnancy. If you fall into any of those three categories and continue to read, please don’t hate me. **
Right then, disclaimer out of the way. I’m losing my shit. I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m pissing my pants on the daily and a crazy person lives inside my body and uses my mouth to say things. I hate her most of all.
Here’s what’s going on in Mintaland, folks… I am scared to fucking death. I’m excited and I want to meet this baby and I am terrified of having this baby. Terrified. Yes, that is insane. I’ve spent 10 years, thousands of dollars, millions of emotional dollars and countless energy getting to this point and I am petrified. PETRIFIED.
What am I so scared of, you ask?
I’m scared that I won’t feel the right emotions when he gets here.
I’m scared I won’t be able to handle natural childbirth.
I’m scared something will go wrong during childbirth.
I’m scared that I’ll become a slave to a tiny thing that screams, and his daddy.
I’m scared that I won’t be a good mother.
I’m scared that I won’t enjoy being a mother.
I’m scared that G and I won’t love each other the same way after the baby is born.
I’m scared that I’ll feel trapped.
I’m scared that I won’t be me anymore.
I’m scared that I won’t know how to take care of Baby G.
I’m scared of developing postpartum depression.
I’m scared that I’ll miss my work and regret leaving it.
I’m scared of being broke.
I’m scared of not being able to breastfeed.
I’m scared that I won’t like to breastfeed.
It’s nuts, of course. I want Baby G to come, I’ve been looking forward to it for years and years. Every time I feel him move I am reminded that soon I’ll be able to see him move, and stroke his cheek and look in his eyes. I am happy and excited for those things. But, I don’t feel like I can picture it properly. It’s like a fuzzy dream. Like the memory of a TV show or movie. I can visualize it, but I can’t conjure up the emotions that are supposed to go with it. That is what scares me the most. I can’t find any emotion at all when I think of those times. It’s like I’m thinking about a movie. Maybe that’s normal. Maybe that just doesn’t come, yet. Maybe because I haven’t experienced it, I just can’t know. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I have no soul.
I am having such a hard time managing these conflicting feelings, though. On the one hand I am so excited that I could (and do!) pee my pants. On the other, fear. It’s gotten to the point that all I think about is the baby and having everything ready, and how I can’t get everything ready. What if he comes before my shower? I don’t have enough diapers. What if his clothes don’t fit? Did I really sign up for this on purpose? What if my body didn’t make/keep babies on it’s own because I’m not cut out to be a mother. Holy fuck, I am somebodies mother!
But also, wow, I am somebody’s mother. Me, I am a mommy. I have a son and he’s going to be here soon and he’s mine. He isn’t going to be mine, he IS mine. Now. Today. I have diapers (not as many as I’d like, but enough for a day or two between wash loads), I have boobs, I have bottles, I have formula samples, just in case. I have clothes, and a bag and baby wash and lotion. He can come home tomorrow without the world ending.
This weekend, we had a big family party (I swear this isn’t a big a change in gears as it appears at first glance). My cousin was there with his 3 week old baby. The kids call him Baby Ocean for some crazy reason. He was wearing an outfit that we bought for Baby G and it’s 0-3 mo’s and fit him perfectly. He didn’t want to be in his chair or bed, he liked to be held, but my cousin wanted to spend time with the fam. So, I sat and rocked and took care of Baby Ocean for a long time. It felt like home. I didn’t feel any particular surge of love for the baby, but those motions and instincts felt natural. It felt like what I do. Big C wanted to hold him and I was able to help him and keep the baby content while he was holding him and it was a good time and it felt very natural. It helped to assuage some of my fears. But… It also brought up new ones. What if my baby is the one baby I can’t soothe?
I am just really second guessing myself a lot and it’s making me crazy.
I know everything is going to be OK. I know the newborn weeks are going to be stressful, but they will work out. Knowing something and feeling it are two different things, though. Right now, I just can’t trust my feelings…