Most of the time, I don't really believe that I'm pregnant. We tried for so long and I really started to imagine my life without a family. This would have been okay, really. I can picture it. I had walled off the part of me that wanted it so badly, knowing that it may never happen. Now I have to reconnect with that part of myself and start imagining myself as a mother.
I had another ultrasound today. This one changed my due date, moving it forward by about a week. When I laid down on the table for the ultrasound, I half expected there to be nothing there.
"Haha! Got you! You're not really pregnant, it's all in your head." I would climb down off the table and say "Good one, guys, you thought you had be going, but I never really believed it." I wouldn't even cry. To think that there is nothing growing in me right now is more believable than what is really happening.
It's surreal feeling that there is a living thing inside of me, sucking away my life and changing my whole body around to suit it's needs. As soon as the probe hit my belly, I could see the outline of the fetus. It was immediate. BAM! Baby! It was larger than last time and it clearly has arms and legs. It was moving. This this is moving around inside of me and I can't even feel it. Intellectually, I knew that my baby was already moving and kicking, but to see it in front of me on an ultrasound was something else entirely.
Not even two weeks ago it was a peanut-shaped blob with a fluttery heartbeat center. Now it is starting to look human. I keep thinking about this ultrasound like what I saw is in the past, but this thing is inside of me all the time. Right now, as I look at the pictures, it is in there, kicking.
I can't think about this too much or I will cry. I almost started crying going through a box of maternity clothes that a friend loaned me, just because it was so nice of her to do so! I want to call my mother and tell her that I love her. (This is highly uncharacteristic. I am not close to my mother.) I want to listen to Christmas music. I want to talk to my dead Grandma like she can hear me. I want to talk to my baby like it can hear me. I'm losing hold of my firm grasp on reality and logical nature. I do not, however, have an urge to pray so I know I'm not completely losing it.
How I feel right now is much how I felt when my grandma died. I couldn't feel it at first because it was too big. I have to adjust myself to take it in and it has to get smaller, less risky. It's weird that a grievous event and a supremely happy one are so similar. I never thought I'd have these emotions and now I don't know how to feel them. When I think about the future and actually holding our baby, my mind drifts around and can't settle on it. If I do start to form the picture, I am instantly overwhelmed and unable to allow it to focus.
This is what is going to happen. We are going to have this baby and we are going to feel the happy emotions I thought I'd never feel. The thing kicking around inside of me is the proof. I just don't fully believe that it's there.
In other news, Hubby and I settled on a nickname for our unborn wiggly nugget. "Sketch" It's just a Sketch right now, it's not finished. I voted for Space Invader, but he thought that was too long. Peanut is too common. And so, I have a Sketch inside of me. Getting closer and closer to completion. I guess at some point I'll give birth to an oil painting.
The great thing about babies is that they have no respect whatsoever for whether or not you're ready. Even if this is too big and intimidating to think about, never fear: Sketch will go on with the plan unfazed, and you will follow along just fine.
ReplyDeleteFor what it's worth, it took a couple months after Dani was born for me to stop thinking, "wait, is this really happening? Is that kid mine? And she's still here?" Another person springing forth from your uterus is a pretty surreal and disorienting experience, and it's perfectly natural to need some time to adjust.