Disclaimer: I know there are people who sincerely have no interest in having kids; who loathe being around them. Therefore I can only imagine what it's like to have their friends cross over to the dark side and begin posting alien-like ultrasound pictures of their unborn child...I would guess it would be frustrating too. Especially when we're all getting to the age where marriage and babies are being announced in groves. For those people, I sincerely apologize. While I'm not guilty of posting ultrasound pictures (nah, I sent personal text messages of the photo!), I am guilty of making the big announcement on facebook, talking about how far along I am, posting links to my blog and having family members secretly snap photos of the baby bump at cookouts and other events. I can't help it. I'm obsessed and completely overwhelmed with the responsibility that's been given to me and Mike. I want to say, "They'll understand someday," but that seems kind of patronizing...so I'll just apologize...shrug my shoulders, say, "It is what it is. I'm a baby growing fool" and promise not to get angry when they defriend me. They'll be back. We all deserve to feel how we're feeling.
I've always been a bit of a paranoid freak. Since becoming pregnant...I'm the poster child for the issue. I know that miscarriage happens. I've "seen" it first hand within my own family over the years (my aunt miscarried with twins when I was still very young and my cousin lost a baby within the past year). But before I became pregnant, one of my life-long friends went through something I still have a hard time thinking about. While the story is hers to tell (or not tell), I will say she lost her baby late enough that I was already thinking about and planning a baby shower for her. The hurt I have felt her go through from afar, is gut wrenching for me...and unthinkable for those who are in her immediate realm. When I found out I was pregnant she was one of the first people I thought of. I had no idea how I would ever tell her. It finally came down to our small town social network (my Mama telling hers at church on Sunday) to break the ice. I didn't want her to just find out but I couldn't tell her. The morning she called to congratulate me both broke my heart and made it stronger at the same time. I don't know if I will ever adequately be able to tell her what it meant when she uttered "I wanted to call to congratulate you." I will probably never have the vocabulary to describe how the tear-soaked words made indentions on my heart that morning...but with this particular friend, I don't know that a description or explanation is necessary. Some bonds are like that. Our day to day relationship comes and goes, but our friendship is still there. Even when it hurts. Even from afar. Even when I haven't seen her in 5 months.
Until this year, I thought the 12 week mark was homefree. It was the day to announce the Bump to the world and know there was only a 1% chance that the unthinkable could happen. Well, another friend, one who was due only 2 weeks before me, lost her baby recently. While moments like that cause a normal person to hurt; moments like that cause a pregnant girl to hold her Bump and pray. The chances are so low and yet, it's struck close to home twice this year. Loving these girls like I do, it almost feels selfish, but I can't help but think 20x a day, "Please God let me meet this baby."
Every day the changes in my body help me remember, He's Growing. Every night when I wake up with my back cramping, get out of bed to pee three times, or steer clear of mexican food because my stomach just can't handle the spice, I am reminded, He's growing. Changes are happening, hormones are at work...and all the moments gagging in the bathroom are worth it because they reassure me, He's growing.
A friend once told me the baby changes everything about you over the course of nine months from what you eat to how you sleep...in preparation for once it's here. While losing sleep and avoiding my favorite foods once sounded like a huge pain in the a$s, I can officially say I get it. I think expectant Moms almost welcome the craziness because it's reassurance that the baby is on the way.
And the baby IS on the way. One month from today (August 6) I can officially stop calling it "The Bump" and stop switching pronouns (him, her, he, she) as I'm writing...The gender ultrasound has been scheduled!!
Oh and I'm sure all the Mom's out there remember this day: I had to do the rubberband through the button-hole thing tonight on my jean skirt! Pretty nifty trick...although I have a feeling, I'll mostly be sticking to dresses. Bump doesn't like to be squished!
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