Before I saw those two pink lines on a test of my own, I couldn't wait to be pregnant! Making a baby is fun, right? Well, it sure is....but then when you realize what is happening, you suddenly realize that you're totally clueless about pregnancy. {Wait, it's more than just popping a prenatal vitamin nightly?} Like any educated woman in 2010 would do, I headed straight for the source of all information: a Google search. In just 0.16 seconds, I had "about 428,000,000" links to read about the whole growing a baby human process. Cool. I had nine months to narrow it down.
Reading about pregnancy was my favorite pregnancy hobby. I bought every prenatal book that I could get my hands on--and Eric can vouch to say that there are a lot of books about pregnancy! I loved learning about my body and my baby, and how they were working together. My absolute favorite thing to read about was what my baby was doing each week. "Hey Honey, our baby is growing ears this week!" It was fascinating to learn about how a whole tiny human could form so quickly--and amazing to think that it was happening inside my own body!
But, the miracle of life isn't the only thing that those books discuss. They also describe in great detail miscarriages, pregnancy side-effects, birth defects, and stillbirths. In the beginning, these sections are easy enough to flip past...but as the pregnancy progresses and the doctor is running precautionary tests for about 400 different problems, you have to wonder. My baby passed every single prenatal test perfectly with flying colors--and I still worried about him. What if?
For me, the actual pregnancy was a breeze. That horrible first trimester? Nah, it wasn't so bad. Sure, I was nauseous daily, and completely exhausted by 6 pm. But, it was worth it. The second trimester meant that I was finally able to eat dinners again, I woke up, and I finally started to look pregnant! Again, not so bad, right? For me, the third trimester was the worst--and by "worst", I mean that it wasn't my favorite. I was very pregnant in the dead of summer. The heat felt absolutely suffocating to me, and, my ankles were swollen. My belly was so big that it made my back hurt whenever I worked for longer than 4 hours. (I'm guessing that having a job that doesn't require the constant lifting of small children and crawling around on the floor may help to prevent this symptom.) But, every night when I would lay down on the couch and bemoan my achy body, I would feel my precious baby moving around within me, and I remembered what an amazing thing I was doing. Who cares about swollen feet? I was having a baby!!
The further along I got, the less I worried about one problem (miscarriage), but the more I started to worry about another (birth). I think that I began to doubt myself more than my baby. I wasn't worried about him--he was a tough little guy who had endured 9 months in the womb, and, despite borderline pre-eclampsia, was thriving. I worried about my own body and endurance. Could I really give birth vaginally? Would I be able to stay conscious in the event of a c-section?
For the duration of my pregnancy, I told myself that I wasn't scared of the birthing process. Millions of women have given birth all over the world forever (most without any pain medication)--it can't be that bad, right? This actually worked to calm my fears....until about a week before I gave birth. During the last few days, I started to get nervous. What if it hurts more than I can handle? What if I can't push him out? What if there is something wrong with my baby? What if I get him out, but then don't know how to be a mother? All of these fears are completely logical and rational--and especially scary when you're doped up on pregnancy hormones.
Despite the fact that it only took about 10 seconds for the reality of pregnancy to hit me nine months before, it took a while for me to realize that the outcome of this whole ordeal was going to be a real baby. I could feel him moving constantly, and I had seen lots of ultra-sound pictures of the little guy--but it still didn't seem real. When I was admitted to the hospital, I think that the reality started to hit me when I saw the little bassinet next to my bed. And, it already had the tiny hat laying there ready for him!
After I had been in labor for hours, I suddenly realized that this was it. I was ready to push--and then I would have my son in my arms! He would not be inside of me, scheduled to come out "soon", but rather he would be right in front of me! While the nurses rushed around preparing themselves and the room, reality hit me, and I was terrified. I was scared of giving birth, and I was even more scared to be a mom! I looked at my husband, and it frightened me to think that we would be parents within just a few minutes--we didn't know anything about babies or parenting--what were were thinking?!
In an effort to calm myself, I used my go-to line: "Women all over the world have been giving birth forever. Your body was made to give birth. You can do it!" Nope, nothing. I wasn't scared of the pain anymore (the epidural had taken care of that!), but I was scared of being a mother. Then, I realized something else: This is the day that I've been waiting for my whole, entire life. I've wanted to be a mommy since I was four years old and collecting baby dolls. My son wasn't coming out as a rambunctious 3-year-old or a wild 17-year-old; he was coming into this world as a helpless little baby who only wants his mommy. I could handle it. And, I did.
I would do it all over again in a heartbeat--the pregnancy, the birth, the crying infant at 4 am--it's all so much more than "worth it" when it happens. I love being a mommy more than I have ever loved any other job or label. Nathaniel is perfect, and I wouldn't trade a second with him for anything. As scary as the whole process was, I really believe that some people are just born to be parents--and I think that Eric and I are both those people. We won't always be perfect, and I'm sure we'll make lots of mistakes along the way, but Nathaniel is the luckiest baby because he is loved. He is loved more than he will ever know, and that, my friend, is way more important than knowing how to push a baby out or how to breastfeed. If you give a baby all the love in the world, everything else will follow.
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