Since it’s been over a year since I’ve posted anything and I have a lot going through my mind today, I felt like writing a bit…
I’m still absolutely loving my job at Xact Payroll. I’ve been there for about 14 months (obviously, judging by my last post…) and I honestly have no complaints. Of course I am a little sad, in a way, that I’ll be leaving in March to “work from home”, but I’m certainly excited about the reason. Yup, we’re having a baby. I’ll be 27 weeks on Monday and IT’S A GIRL!!!
I’m pretty nervous about how it’ll be for me to not work (considering I’ve been working full time since I was 14 years old… aside from the unemployed periods….) or more specifically for me to not have my “own” income, but I know it’ll work out and we’ll figure it out in our own way. I’m really grateful that Bart wants the same things I do when it comes to raising a child, especially the part of having a stay-at-home parent. Of course for me it means so much more considering that I’ve already missed one child’s life (although yes, quite different), but I made a promise to him that someday I would be the best mother I possibly could be when the time was right. I’m glad we waited until it was right for us. We got the crib and a rocking chair/glider for the baby’s room and sometimes I just find myself sitting in there and looking at it. Isn’t it pretty????
Granted the chair is pretty comfy so I don’t need much coaxing to just go sit in it.
It’s all a little surreal to me sometimes… we’re going to be parents. At one point in my adult life, I was pretty positive that we never would be. Maybe my way of defending my emotions, but I really never let myself get my hopes up too high. I’ve gone through a lot of different phases since I placed Dustin for adoption and one of them was definitely not knowing whether I ever *wanted* to have a child or not. Of course deep down I knew I really did, but somehow pretending you don’t care about something seems to be a natural way to protect yourself. I admit I went through some strange and unexpected emotions (aka “Denial”) when we found out I was pregnant… I confess that I took probably 5-6 home pregnancy tests. Even after our first appointment at 8 weeks, I struggled with feeling a real connection to this baby, or even accepting that I really was. I think in my conscious mind, I was convinced that I’d misread the tests, or that the doctor was wrong (I think I actually asked “how does he know that my uterus is 8 weeks? Maybe that’s how my uterus always feels! He doesn’t know me!”) and the moments I had when I “accepted” that I was pregnant, the feeling of “well something is going to happen and I’ll lose this baby” wouldn’t go away. I was positive I’d have a miscarriage. It wasn’t until our visit at 12 weeks… which I dreaded more than I can describe… that we were supposed to hear the heartbeat. I was so nervous, I felt like puking the entire way to the Doctor’s office… the waiting room – horrible. Then we went back and Dr. Nance laid me on the table and prepped me (squeezed that cold sticky gross stuff on my belly) and put the dopler against my skin. Nothing. Time went by… …..Nothing. After what was at least 2 minutes, I started mildly hyperventilating, trying to keep myself from openly crying. I knew it. I knew it wasn’t real. And obviously I got my hopes up too high because I wouldn’t be upset if that wasn’t the case. He kept moving the dopler around… waiting. I wanted him to just let me up. I was done. I turned the best I could to look at Bart, to will him to read my mind and get me out of there, but he didn’t read my mind. He just smiled and held my hand. He knew I was in pre-panic mode, I’m sure of it. At least another minute went by of him poking and rubbing the thingy across my belly, trying to conjure up a heartbeat that didn’t exist and I was growing more upset and angry and panicky with every second that went by… and them WHUMP! Whump, whump, whump… WHAT?!?!? Yeah, talk about insta-tears. I don’t think I realized that I had started to hold my breath after Bart had squeezed my hand and that me holding my breath was the only thing keeping the tears back. There was a heartbeat. Loud and clear and strong and I must have more or less blanked out after that, drowning in tears and gasping for air as Dr. Nance was talking to us. I know he talked to us for a bit, confirmed that we were 12 weeks along I think, more talking, then we were in the car on our way home. Then I started laughing. Almost anyone who knows me knows that generally laughing is my natural reflex reaction to most things (good, bad or indifferent…) I looked at Bart and just couldn’t stop grinning/laughing and said “Ok…. it’s real.” and he laughed “NOW it’s real??” LOL It’s been pretty good since then. I’ve let myself enjoy it. It’s been strange (in a good way) for me to have someone here by my side through the whole thing too. I certainly didn’t have that the first time. Someone that is interested and cares and participates. Feeling her move and kick for the first time (around 14 weeks) was amazing… even more amazing? The first time Bart felt her kick. That was a first for me… to experience it with someone else. So surreal. She is extremely active… very much so particularly when I’m trying to fall asleep… but I do love it.
Anyway, I’m sure there is a ton more I could write about, but at the moment… I’m pretty hungry, so this is it for now. Maybe I’ll make more of an attempt to write regularly so I can “record” things better… I guess that’s the point of a journal, right? 😛