Our first baby was born in March of last year and we are currently 2 months pregnant with baby number two. We are overjoyed to be adding another member to our family and we are excited to be walking this journey again. I was happy when I saw that second line on the test and it has been fun to dream about how the kids will play together. But I’m going to be honest, it is scary. I’m in a lot of fear, more than I thought I would be my second time around. Although, I’m not really afraid of pains and tugs, what labor will feel like, and if I’ll be able to handle newborn poop and running on basically no sleep. My fears are now manifesting in different ways.
I’m fearful that I am stealing time from Carson. That we should’ve waited so that we could enjoy the solo time with him more. Focus only on him. Give him all the love and attention he wants and needs as a young babe, without any distractions.
I’m afraid of how Carson will react to having another baby in the house, taking his mama’s attention away from him. I’m afraid that he’ll never forgive me. That he’ll pick anyone over me, and I’ll miss out on snuggling with my first born. Logically I know that’s not true. I know that he might misbehave at first but he’ll eventually warm up to the idea of sharing mom and dad. But, pregnancy brain is a real thing and hormones have a way of completely throwing my rationality out the window.
I constantly obsess about food. Every day. It is part of having an eating disorder and it’s something that I’ve come to terms with. I’m always going to have it. In my first pregnancy I was meeting with a therapist and a dietitian who were supposed to be helping me cope with the fact that I’d be gaining weight as part of the pregnancy, and help me get through that. I immediately quit smoking for the first time in 10 years, food tasted delicious, and I had a life to create. But, in the end, I put on way too much weight. It is a fairly common thing, so I hear, to gain too much weight in pregnancy. Yet here I am, only 17 pounds lighter than I was the day I delivered Carson, and approximately 60 pounds overweight, doing it all over again. It’s embarrassing to even think, let alone put into words. It makes me want to cry at my desk with shame.
Can I just say that daycare is so expensive? I mean, my word. We have been putting Carson in daycare since June and we are quickly depleting our savings. We’re building it back up with our tax refund this year and will be okay for a while, but the thought of having two children in daycare is freaking me out. Plus twice the diapers, food and wipes, twice the clothes, twice the everything.
Andrew and I had very little time to enjoy each other before Carson joined our family. We love him and I can’t imagine my life without him in it. Andrew and I get lots of time together because our parents help us out and allow us to continue to date and have the time to go out and do things. With two, it will get more difficult and we’ll be more frazzled than before. We’re so lucky our parents are close.
I love being a mom. And a wife. I do. It’s something I’ve yearned for my whole life and sometimes I pinch myself because I just can’t believe that its true. But I love my time. I love painting and reading. I haven’t painted in over a year, and that makes me sad. Things are only going to get more hectic, and if I can’t make the time for myself now, how will I when another set of little feet are running around our home?
So far, it has been difficult to enjoy being pregnant this time around. My constant swirling thoughts around my fears plus some challenges in my personal life and this mama is a mess.
But then I pause. I remember to bring myself back to the present. To be in the moment, and soak up everything that is happening around me. I watch Andrew read to Carson. I scoop him out of the crib and let him wake up slowly with me, snuggled in, protesting the end of a nap. I take him for a walk, or get on the floor and play with his toys, and laugh when he laughs. There’s nothing like his baby giggle.
Life is not going to be the same as it was. If I’ve learned anything at all, it’s that I just need to hang on for the ride. I have to trust that everything is unfolding the way that it should be. Having faith in the bigger picture is a challenge because I can’t see it. But then again, that’s what faith is. Just trusting there’s a bigger picture out there, and taking the next right action in my little corner of the world. All I can control is my own behavior, and there’s hope in that. It means I can take steps to feel better.
So, I’ll have healthy snacks, and walk, and try not to overindulge or restrict calories. I’ll try to be grateful every day that I have a body that can create life, and revel in the beauty of that miracle. I’ll try to save a little more money than normal. I’ll make a point to reach out to my husband and tell him how much I adore him in the ways I know he appreciates the most. I’ll ask for what I need, when I need time alone. I’ll remind myself to capture moments, and hold onto them forever.
My fears are valid. They’re how I feel, and no one can change that. But I don’t have to let my fears control me. I don’t have to allow them to prevent me from enjoying the life I have today. I just have to acknowledge that they’re there. It’s then that I can walk through them.
Becky is part of the Contributing Writer Network at Thirty on Tap. To apply to become a Contributing Writer, please click here.
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