So pregnancy. Yeah. It’s crazy shit.
For me, not so much in the “read everything I possibly can about what’s happening to my body and what to expect” kind of way, though. (Paul does that.) More in the “shock and excitement and fear” of it all kind of way, which I’m sure is typical for everyone.
For the most part, Paul and I did that thing where we wait to tell people that we’re expecting until it’s “in the bag”…but secretly it was easy for me to keep to myself because I was busy trying to wrap my head around this whole thing. As odd as it sounds, the idea of telling someone and having them exhibit over the moon excitement for the two of us (though a sweet and totally appropriate reaction!) was a nauseating thought for me. That sounds completely twisted, I realize.
It’s just that, although I’m excited to start a family (because family is really, REALLY important to me), I’m terrified to be a mother. I don’t have “that maternal thing.” I know, I know, it’ll come – people have told me that it’s “instinctual”, but initially (and even now, at times) I can’t say that I was really excited to be a mother. And, honestly, I didn’t want those feelings placated or pushed aside by positivity and excitement.
Finances I can figure out…it’s the little things that worry me the most. What I get obsessed with is how I’m supposed get a kid ready and to a day care in the morning when I can barely get myself to work by 9:00 a.m. every morning. When will I go to the gym? Will we really have to take the baby with us WHEREVER we go? If it’s sleeping, can we just, like, sneak out for a quick cocktail down at the neighborhood bar? (I can feel the readers of this post slowly pulling their children away from me.)
I’m not a kid person. I’m just not. Sometimes I try to pretend like I am but kids are typically on to me. They run to the huge, stoic, intimidating looking man next to me because Paul has that “kid thing” that I just don’t possess. He’s like the baby whisperer. Kids are f#$*ing intuitive, I’ll tell you that much.
Soooo, where does that leave me? Well, many of those pressing questions that I’ve been unable to answer I’ve decided to address with this response: “Paul will do it.” He’s pleased, as I’m sure you can imagine.
But it’s getting better. I’m starting to be okay with this. I’m starting to know that I’m not in this alone…that I’ll figure it out…WE’LL figure it out. And at the end of the day, week, year…hell, at the end of MY LIFE, I’ll never regret having been courageous to do that which terrifies me the most. Because I’m confident it will be worth it…no matter what. Right, Mom?
Positivity, you’re welcome to enter in to the equation now. Thanks for your patience.