So here I am at 14 weeks. I almost put “already” at the end of that statement, but the truth is, I have felt every tick of the second hand since I got that sweet little second pink line.
I’m a worrier. I worry, therefore, I am.
Finding out so early on, realizing that it didn’t take long for us to conceive, knowing all the things that can happen, wanting so badly for it to be “the one,” – the weight of it isn’t light, isn’t easy. There were feelings of being undeserving of the gift and the responsiblity I had been given. The nagging thought that “it can’t possibly be this easy” ate away in my mind every waking second of the day, and most of many almost sleepless nights.
I grew tired of hearing “you will regret not enjoying your pregnancy when you look back,” kind of statements from a handful of the few who knew our wonderful, precious secret. I was happy – am happy – overjoyed and overwhelmed by love and wanting and feelings of protection for this fragile little life starting inside of me. I did “enjoy” having that little secret, knowing I had this miraculous gift, this amazing creation of God growing in me, of course I enjoy knowing that. But how could anyone NOT be worried. When something makes you that happy, it is difficult not to realize how losing it would be like losing a piece of yourself, and that is scary.
As scary as it was to start telling people, as scary as it still is – it is also something I want to shout from the rooftops about – to stop strangers on the street and exclaim “I’m pregnant! We are going to have a baby!”
Prayer and consideration about faith in God’s plan have been constant – almost as regular as breathing – from the beginning.
Being able to hear the sweet, perfect little heartbeat on my rent-a-doppler has been reassuring, and though I know I will never NOT worry, being in the 2nd trimester does feel better than the precariously pregnant early moments of the 1st.
I look at it this way – I worry about this little one because all I want in this world right now is the honor and the privilege of being able to worry about him or her for the rest of my hopefully long, long life as “mom.”
Potter and I still pray our same little prayer every night – we have just joyfully expanded our hearts to include one more:
“Dear God – Keep us all safe, and healthy, and hold us in the palm of your hand – this we pray in Jesus’ Name, Love Potter and Mommy, amen.”