There is a tornado of emotions swirling within me right now. I am approaching my last two weeks of being pregnant and struggling with all of the feelings that accompany that. There is a very good chance that this is the last time in my life that I will ever be pregnant again, so there's that. Although I do not like being pregnant, I understand and am eternally grateful for how lucky I am to have the ability to be pregnant so easily without any complications or years and years of waiting for it to happen. I can definitely appreciate the miracle that growing and carrying a baby inside of you is. This baby girl of mine is a wiggle worm and I know in my heart that I am going to miss that feeling. To be able to feel something so precious is something too sacred to put into words. So yes, I am going to miss this. But there is also a feeling of excitement and anticipation to meet her. An anxiousness to finally have her in my arms and a real, tangible part of our family.
There is also this overwhelming feeling of guilt I feel for my first born. Being a second child myself, I am a little confused by this feeling, but it is there all the same. Will Leland be okay? I find myself asking this question at least a million times a day. Its been him and I for so long now, almost four years. We are best buddies. How will a second child change the dynamic between us? How much jealousy will he feel towards his baby sister when mom is having to give her so much of her time and energy? Will he digress? Will my relationship with my son change for the worse? Everyone tells me that it somehow just works. That your love as a mother is not divided, but multiplied. I pray they are right. I pray that Leland is strong enough to handle all of this change that is headed his way. It seems like a lot to ask of a three year old. I find myself lately craving to be near Leland, to soak up these last few precious moments I have alone with him. For some reason I am finding it very difficult to say goodbye to this time of our lives, but that only makes me feel guilty towards my second child. This mom guilt thing is a terrible feeling, like neither of my children can both win.
And there is that dreaded feeling of fear. A fear that is so overpowering it threatens to wash me away completely. The beast is coming. I know it is. I may have better tools to fight it this time, but it is coming nonetheless. It is unavoidable, that beastly monster of depression that comes after birth. Postpartum depression is a foul, loathsome, demon that haunts me even before it has arrived. It nearly tore my marriage apart last time. What horrors will it have in store for me this time? There is nothing but dread in the pit of my stomach when I think about this. Can my family afford to have this creature of darkness enter our home? Are we strong enough?
Some how we will all make it through the next few months in one piece. There will be a day in the future when I come back to read this blog and laugh at myself for being such a worry wart and for not having more faith. At least, I have hope for that day anyway. I am nervous to have a newborn again. I am anxious thinking about the long nights with no sleep. I worry about my son. I am scared for postpartum depression. I am excited to meet this baby girl. I am slightly concerned about the medical bills headed our way. I am a million different emotions in one very tired and very pregnant body. So I sit at my computer in the middle of the night, too stressed out to sleep, and I type it all out. And somehow, I feel better.