I’m watching How To Get Away With Murder. I don’t even know why I watch it. It’s really dark, in lighting, murder and lies, but I think Viola Davis’ acting is fantastic. Annalise has just lost her baby at almost full term after a road accident. I’m emotional!
Though to be fair, I’m feeling particularly vulnerable right now. My tummy feels ginormous, my clothes don’t fit, I’m eating all the time and my feet are swollen. I’m only five and a half months along but I feel like I’ve become a special needs person. I need a footstool under my desk at work, I need to avoid standing or sitting for long periods of time, and I sleep with the pillows positioned just so, else I don’t enjoy a comfortable night’s sleep.
Gong (the baby, and no, I don’t remember exactly how we landed on that little gem) is moving slightly, and making me very aware of the fact that I’m carrying another life in me. It’s weird and it’s wonderful, and it scares the bejeezus out of me!
Everyone keeps asking me whether I’ve started shopping. Am I supposed to have done that? I can barely keep up with work and home duties and trying to have a social life and trying to manage my weight without eating the six meals my body is demanding each day.
I have a spare room I’d like to do up as a nursery (I’m team independent baby), but I haven’t bought as much as a burp cloth. Hell, I don’t even know the difference between that and muslin cloth and why I need both. My bestie sent me a list of baby things that I need to buy before Gong arrives and I swear I got tired just looking at it. Why would a little human need so much stuff?
Then I’m told I’m glowing. That’s definitely a compliment I’ve heard once in my life – and I was sure the nice lady just didn’t know the different between a glow and my super oily skin but I took it anyway. Now I walk and people tell me I look gorgeous (first time in my life, yay) and pregnancy looks good on me and sijui what, and I’m grateful, because I always feared it would make me fat(ter), spottier and irritable AF.
What they don’t see is the anxiety that fills me every time I think of the baby. I want so desperately to have a “perfect” baby, and I know I should be filling myself with happy thoughts and all that love and light, positive vibes stuff. But weh! Si I have an overactive imagination! I keep thinking about all the moms who’ve lost their babies and wondering whether I would survive it. I see moms with special needs kids and I wonder whether I would be able to handle it. I work hard to fight rising anxiety each time I go for a check-up and feel like it’s taking a little too long to find the heartbeat. I wonder whether the technician is managing me when he says everything is fine, and whether I’ll go to the doc with the results and have my world come crashing down on me when he looks at them.
I’ve replayed a million different scenarios in my head, trying to plan for this baby. But you know what? This is entirely out of my hands, and as a (moderate) control freak, it’s freaking me out! Hell, I don’t even know whether I’m ready to be a mom. I mean, I loved Gong the moment I heard the little alien-looking creature’s heartbeat, and I love it when I feel the movements especially when My Lover starts speaking and the baby almost immediately responds by stirring a little. But I’ve never been called maternal, it’s not something I can say I’ve felt either, though my nephew made me feel broody but he kind of balanced that out with his inclination to attack me or shake his head in a vigorous NO! each time he saw me.
But I can’t bring myself to start shopping and get everything ready because…what if? My biggest fear right now is losing the baby. Even typing that just made me catch my breath a little. I feel like allowing myself to get excited could jinx the entire thing, so I’m busy trying to manage my expectations when everyone is telling me I look pretty and should just really enjoy this time. I can’t help it. I feel incredibly blessed, but at the same time I’m terrified of losing this blessing after tasting it a little this past couple of months.
Is this normal? Am I overthinking things?
So each day, I pray for this child to live, to be healthy, to be our perfect little Gong.