The last couple of weeks have not been my favorite. Family stuff blew up, and I blew up, and the residual feelings of blame, guilt and regret are not helping the general terror I have at the oncoming baby.
Oh, have I not mentioned? I'm terrified. When I say this aloud, as lightly as possibly, people tend to ask something like - terrified of having a child, or terrified of the labor? Yes. Yes. All of the above.
Starting with first things first, the whole impending labor is utterly terrifying. There will be pain. Lots of pain. Possibly the most intense pain I've ever had to deal with, for an unspecified length of time, which could drag on quite ponderously. And the more I learn about this pain, the more I realize - I have to at least give it a go. Because if I take the drugs (and I have no political agenda, if I really feel I can't do it, I'll take the drugs), the drugs get in the way of what really should happen. The body has a plan, a set of tactics that will aid the whole process, and once I take the drugs, I interrupt the setup created by thousands of years of evolution. So...I have to try to avoid the drugs, try much harder than I once thought.
But let's look at labor as a finite amount of time that will eventually pass. I'm terrified, but it will end. But as it ends, the terror is just beginning! If we make it through, if the baby is healthy, then I get to start an entire lifetime of taking care of this brand new human being.
I'm terrified I'll make a mess of it.
I'm terrified I'll lose every part of myself to this new responsibility.
I'm terrified the baby won't be healthy.
I'm terrified I won't be healthy.
I'm terrified the baby will never sleep and will never stop crying.
I'm terrified I'll discover I have no capability to take care of this thing.
I'm also terrified that I won't ever be able to think beyond it again, or think of anything else without feeling like a bad mother. I wanted to have a family to have a bigger life, not have my life narrow down into simply being a caretaker.
And I'm terrified to hit post on this, because I don't love the idea of being judged for feeling this way. Also, the internet never goes away. What if I love my child with every fiber of my being when he or she gets here, and all of this fear fades into the background, but someday he or she stumbles upon this? I could be damaging my favorite human being just by being honest about how I'm feeling right now. (Ok, inkling, if you're reading this, just know I hadn't even met you yet, you were just some kicking keeping me awake and making me feel like an unattractive walrus. Judge me by how I am with you now, not by this.)
Man, this parenthood thing is triiiicky. I already feel as if I'm proving to be absolute crap at it. (Inkling, for your sake I hope I get better really quickly.)
Right. I guess...enough whining. This was my choice, and fear is an indicator that I am doing something that will force me to grow as a human being.
Perhaps the greater the fear, the greater the coming growth.
Perhaps.
I guess I have to hope so. And I have to figure out something to hold on to during the fear.
