I had my first pang of anxiety today over the baby. I have spent the last 23 weeks as a solid rock of courage and nonchalance. Mike would ask me if I was nervous or scared about any of it, even the littlest bit. I was dead serious when I looked him in the eye and said, “nope!”. I was good. I was confident. I mean, hell, it’s just a baby. I’ve birthed and taken care of two of them…done a lot of it on my own, have done it with money and without, and I got through it and so did they, right?! I will rock the shit out of this motherhood thing!
Then today, right in the midst of my work day, it happened. One of the ladies I work with brought in her daughter and her 3 month old grandson. I wanted nothing to do with that child. I was afraid of it.
What do I do if it cries? What do I do if it hates me? Everyone is going to stare at me while I interact with the baby!
The baby was making its rounds around the office and everyone was oohing and aahing over him…and the mom was gushing about how his chubby little legs don’t fit in the Bumbo seat. I tried to slyly turn around to see where they were, but I inadvertently made eye contact with grandma and she headed my way. I smiled…I grabbed his cute little foot and rubbed his head. He didn’t even acknowledge my presence, so I made a comment about how he had snot bubbles and grandma took off to wipe his nose and to get his germy existence away from the pregnant lady. I was saved!
I sat at my desk and couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I was scared of that stupid baby. I don’t remember how to take care of a baby anymore. Holy crap.
So, now I’m frightened. My rational mind tells me that it will all come back to me. That I’m not afraid of babies…I adore my children and hate all others…that’s all. I’ll be fine. All these feelings are totally normal. As soon as I hold her it will all flood back and I’ll become SuperMom again.
Hopefully, this is just an emotional phase I’m going through and I can blame these damn pregnancy hormones. Which makes sense, actually. I wanted to cry like I was watching Beaches last night while watching the season finale of Battlestar Galactica. And I wanted to cry this morning because I hated my outfit.
On a happier note, Mike and I have played with Gummy by shining lights on my belly and playing music for her. It makes her move…whether it’s out of stimulation or annoyance, we don’t know. But it’s cool, nonetheless!
Plans are under way for the baby shower, which I am really excited about, and soon Mike and I will go get to register for goodies. Shopping makes me happy. Even if it’s pretend shopping.
17 weeks doesn’t feel like a very long time to wait anymore.