Anxiousness

Six weeks and counting.

Feelings of anxiousness are filling my body.

It's not anxiety over giving birth, or making the two hour drive to the hospital, but about Sal.

I've never been away from him for more than a few hours. Ever.

We have arranged to fly my sister out from California to stay for two weeks, which will coincide with my planned induction date and recovery. I trust her 100% in taking care of Sal, and giving him her full attention. But I can't let go of the sad feelings I am already have when I think about leaving him for a few days. I worry he won't nap for her. I worry he will have trouble going down for bedtime. I worry he we call out my name with that heartbreaking sob of his and not be consolable. I worry he will feel abandoned. 

I've had offers from friends here to "practice" leaving him, but somewhere along the way, my mind has been stuck in the mindset that I should be with him at all times. Sure, I've had daydreams of getting away, and I have gone out on my own a few times (but Nick is usually home, or my friend Heather watches him), but it is usually because I really need to go on an errand or something...not just because. And we're talking an hour. Not all day. Not overnight. An hour or two, max. 

The rational side of me knows he will be okay. He's in the best hands (besides ours) that we could think of. He will get to stay in his own home, sleep in his own bed, and have his auntie all to himself. He looooves his aunt Stephanie. I know my sister will have invitations to join my friends for coffee, playground visits, and produce market walks. I know she will keep him busy and love on him.

It's just a couple of days. Not forever. 

That being said, I still can't shake this feeling of anxiety over leaving my little man.

Anxious, much?

I have to admit, I find myself in denial (even at 16 weeks in) that we are actually expecting again.

I look down at my belly at least fifteen times a day, sucking it in in the mirror and telling myself that I don't "look" pregnant, so I must not be. It must be a dream. It's not real. This isn't happening. 

But the reality of it is, I am pregnant. I do have a belly. It is growing bigger.

I play this game within my head on an hourly basis. I wake up from nightmares almost every morning in which I dream the baby has died, or that we've gotten bad news that the baby will die. Some of the nightmares are so realistic, I cry in my sleep, only to have NZ roll over and make sure I'm okay. I'm always glad when he wakes me, but it takes a moment for me to realize I was dreaming, and everything is okay. I wake up exhausted. 

I think after all the struggles and losses we've experienced in the past, pregnancy will never be a walk in the park for me emotionally. I think I will always expect that something will go wrong, as to not get my hopes up. It stinks to have baggage holding me back from truly enjoying pregnancy. I've got one more week to go before we get confirmation that all is well, and I find myself feeling more and more anxious as the days pass since my last appointment. It's like I need constant confirmation that a) I have a baby inside and b) baby has a heartbeat. 

Sure, I could buy or rent a Doppler, but could you imagine the panic if I don't find a heartbeat while doing it myself? We're two hours from my OB, and 20 minutes from our local hospital...I'm afraid that I would wind up in either hospital on a weekly basis if someone laid my hands on a Doppler. Better left to the professionals. Besides, I'm learning patience, right?

I don't know exactly where this post is going, except that having one baby after loss doesn't make later pregnancies any less worrisome...and having this pregnancy come so easily almost freaks me out that it's too good to be true, so I spend my days waiting for heartbreak, when instead I should be embracing the fact that our chances of having another child are so much higher than the chances of losing it. 

All anxiety aside, I am happy. I am excited. I am lucky. 

This I know. 

Here's to me re-reading this post in 5 months saying to myself, " you worried for nothing!".

Nervous, much?

This week has been a big one for me. It marks my first week of a part time work schedule, which I will continue through October before officially retiring from my job of 6 years. To many, my limited hours and decision to stop working all together by the time I reach 27 weeks may seem premature, but for me, it's what needs to be.

Although we have (knock on wood) been fairly lucky thus far, and had only one unplanned visit to my OB's office which turned out totally okay, I haven't enjoyed this pregnancy to it's fullest..Let me rephrase that as to not sound like an ungrateful brat- I totally 100% appreciate the chance we have at parenthood...and I know there are many couples out there who are still in waiting, whether it be through infertility treatments or adoption--and my heart goes out to them-but the anxiety I have over this pregnancy has given me a run for my money.

Every week, it's something new to worry about..first it was getting a heartbeat, then it was making it to the second trimester, then it was passing the quad screen and making it to 20 weeks...now it's making it to tomorrow...

24 weeks- that's THE week. THE week that changed our lives forever last time around..THE week that taught us what it's like to grieve over loss, and to soldier on...THE week that got me dreaming of someday bringing another baby home that we'd be able to raise.

So, with the arrival of THE week, I'm understandably nervous.

This quote has been floating around pinterest for the last week or so, and I need to tattoo it to my forehead...

"99% of the things we worry about never happen."

I sure hope this is true, and that for once, just once, ahem not the 1% whose worry comes true.