Finally! This week marks the official beginning of my second trimester and so the official beginning of my blog. The first fourteen weeks were definitely rocky, but I am optimistic that these next twenty-six (or so) will be significantly better. Don’t get me wrong—I am absolutely, positively overjoyed to be pregnant. I quite literally feel like I have been waiting, anticipating, and preparing for this pregnancy my whole life.
I have wanted to be a mother since I was a little girl. In my early years I would frequently boast that I would have ten children when I grew up. As I grew I began revising this number, first down to six, then down to four (which still seems to me to be the perfect number), and now I have reluctantly agreed with John to consider the possibility that three may be enough. Despite this consuming desire to become a mother, or maybe really because my desire was so strong and I take the responsibility of parenthood so very seriously, like any good middle-class girl I waited. And waited. And waited.
I waited until after I finished my degree. This may seem like a small thing to some, but in view of the sad fact that it took me a full thirteen years to finish my BA, it was a brutally long wait.
I waited to meet the right man. A man who would be a good partner and a good father. A kind and considerate man. A man with whom I could speak seriously and also be as silly as I can sometimes be. A man with the capability and desire to grow with me. A man who knows the meaning of commitment. A man I could trust with my heart, my (unborn) children. Well, I found him. John is all those things and so much more (most days). But he sure was a long time in coming.
And then there was the waiting for this wonderful man of mine to be ready and eager to start a family too. In some ways, that was the hardest wait of all. With my undergraduate degree out of the way and the man for me in my sights, it was torture to continue to wait. And I was not the model of patience.
But, here we are, at long last, at the beginning of the realization of a lifelong dream.
I should be all peace and calm and joy, right?
So, why am I so anxious and worried and irritable? Why does every other day bring new doubts about my own readiness and capability? And, even more straining to my relationship, new doubts about my choice of a partner in this momentous undertaking. More days than I’d like to admit, I just feel utterly alone and terrifically terrified.
Maybe this blog will help. I could definitely use more support, more encouraging words, more consoling advice, the occasional reassurance that everything is gonna be okay. There are certainly times when I think that it is to my advantage that I am such a lone wolf; this does not seem to be one of those times.
When my sister suggested I start this blog (and then grew weary of waiting and started it for me) I thought “what will I write?” But, true to form, I sat down in front of the keyboard and the words just keep coming…
So, here’s to finding support as a new mom-to-be in the digital age.