The Fears

I've never experienced true anxiety, that is until I say a "plus" sign on a pregnancy test, and I quickly became terrified of everything I felt and experienced, worried my greatest gift could be taken from me.

Since feeling bambino move, a lot of my anxieties have dissipated. When i worry I haven't felt a kick or a flutter in awhile, another one happens and I'm reminded of the miracle growing within.

Despite the anxieties, the illness, the exhaustion, and the ailments- I can't imagine a more magical experience in life.  I look at myself in the mirror and am a bit terrified- but when I think of the little person I will meet in just 12ish weeks I'm awestruck once again. I'm so grateful God has chosen me to mother a child. And I'm so so blessed. 

Pregnant Daughters Need their Mothers

Dear mom,

I have so many questions. I need your help to become a momma, a momma as good as you. I need your help to keep me sane, calm, and assured. I crave your reassurance, your approval, your confidence in me.

Did you worry when I was in your belly? Did every hour come with a fleeting fear of my well being? Did you feel sick for weeks while I depended on you to nourish me? Did you throw up so hard you burst a vessel in your eye? Because I did... And it scared me. You would have known how to reassure me.

When did you feel me kick inside you? Did you worry as you awaited those initial confirmations of my "okayness"? Did you smile and become elated at the thought of me doing gymnastics? Did you pee 100 times a day, and at least 82 times a night? 

How did you convince my dad to be empathetic? To meet your needs as you fought to keep me safe, not to mention my sister alive and your grades up. How did you handle those moments when the world/your job/your husband needs more from you than you could physically give? How did you navigate a marriage in the midst of a monumental life change? I'm doing my best, I promise, but I need your guidance...

Did your changing body make you fearful, or empowered? I know your boobs must have become ginormous because mine are terrifying. Was it easy for you to witness the lines and cellulite appear in trade for the life you were creating? How did you accept the change in your womanhood? 

What did you dream? What were your nightmares? What were YOUR questions? What were your fears, momma, because I have too many to count...

Regrets and Reflections - birthday #2

2 nights. 2 nights where my dad was out of town traveling and my mom stayed in the hospital alone. I didn't stay with her overnight. I visited during the day, after work/class/teaching but then returned to my warm cozy bed at night. I know she would have been mad had I stayed, but would she have also felt safer? More protected? More relaxed and less afraid? 

Countless naps in her hospital room, and I wonder if I didn't try hard enough to boost her energy, her mind. I wonder if I could have brought more positivity in that room and a little less of my then over burdened heart. Did I show her she was a priority? Did I show her she was my world? 

Maybe 3 or 4 days where I simply could not visit her in the hospital. 2 from illness, 1 or 2 (I struggle to remember) because my exhaustion clouded my empathy. Did I make her feel unimportant? When I feel tired in my life now, I nap away the pain it brings me. The guilt I carry for the exhaustion I felt while being my mothers caregiver seems to be never ending. I wish sleep cured the guilt, as well.

Her pain was unbearable to witness, but her fear of what she would miss was worse. My crystal clear memories of her eye pain, her mouth sores, her itchy peeling skin, and her general discomfort haunt me. Her muscle weakness and her inability to control her bowels. Her sense of shame crushed my little girl heart. Did I do enough to show her that her fight was beyond brave? Did I do enough to show her that her pain and eagerness to fight was inspiring and beautiful? 

My mother was ready to talk about her life ending well before we were. And I feel we robbed her of "memory making" with each of us. Why wouldn't I tell her the wedding dress style I wanted? My dream wedding venue? Cake or colors? Why didn't I ask what I should name my little ones? Why did our unwillingness to let her go prevent her from going with peace in her heart? Or did it? 

When I think of how I was as a caregiver [poor], I worry if I will also be this way as a mother. Will I silently pray for naps to come and play time to end? Will I wish away their little lives so that I can get a break from the exhaustion? Will I chose my own comfort over theirs? Will I neglect them, alone at night, so that I can be cozy? 

My one, and only, grace is that I did have my mother, while for way too short a time, I had her to guide, demonstrate, and teach me what compassion and love look like. I pray that God, the true grace, will never let her memories and lessons weaken. And I thank him for her life, and for giving me a family and a husband to walk through these deep valleys with. 

I love you mommy. Happy 48th birthday- on Friday.