It's starting to become more and more real for me. My baby girl is due in 14 weeks, and I'm just trying to figure out where the last 26 weeks went! I have fuzzy memories of going to the toilet over and over again when my angel rejected food. Memories of picking through garbage bags of maternity clothes and crying to myself because I wasn't ready to swell up like a balloon. And sitting in counseling sessions, learning how to let my worries, my doubts, and my fears show so that I could work through them and progress. Now, I only have 3 months left. Now, I have to find an apartment, buy a car, get at least a full-time job, and continue with the summer semester.
I feel like this pregnancy hit me in two shockwaves. Yes, shockwaves. Literally two waves of shock. The first wave was shortly after I realized I was pregnant and my mind raced thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong and everything that had to be done. I was hit with stress, fear, guilt, worry, loneliness, and sickness all at once. The second wave is happening right now. Stress, fear, guilt, worry, loneliness, fatigue, and hunger.
I can see time racing ahead of me, and it's impossible to keep up.
I can feel time pushing my sweet baby through these 9 months, leaving my scattered brain and swirling hormones behind.
I do not feel prepared for this at all, and I'm bawling just as I type this! How stereotypically hormonal of me.
I guess that like any other rational mother in the world, I want the very best for my baby. She deserves EVERYTHING. I want to give her the best of everything. I want her to have everything she could ever possibly need! And I feel as though I'm already falling short. She already doesn't have a father (yet). She only has me. And I don't think that's fair to her at all. It makes me feel beyond determined to find THE perfect guy. Not only for me, but for her. I know I deserve a great guy, but she deserves the best.
I'm sure that other new mothers out there have their "What if" lists as well. We're mothers! We worry! I feel like I worry excessively, which is a fault of mine that I accept. My "What if" list includes: what if she isn't born healthy? What if she can't nurse? What if she gets sick? What if I'm so tired that I sleep through her hunger?
I know this won't be a cakewalk. And I know that everything will work out. But I'd also be a little concerned about my own sanity if I wasn't freaking out at least a little bit. I'm about to be in charge of another human being. A helpless, perfect, fragile baby girl. I have to take care of her and fill her every need.
I need to figure out how to do that for myself, first.