A Flood of Emotion

Friday night was a messy one at Casa B. All I can say is, thank goodness Mr. B was at work because it got ugly. Lots of ugly crying. Big, fat, sobbing, out-of-breath tears.

For eight weeks, I’ve been suppressing a lot of emotions. Because a lot can happen. Nothing’s for sure. If there’s anything I’ve learned from watching my friends try to have babies of their own, it’s that you can’t count on holding a baby in your arms at the end of your pregnancy until, well, you hold your baby in your arms at the end of your pregnancy. No matter what the tests say.

How positive does it have to be for me to be positive?

How positive does it have to be for me to be positive?

Even with a positive pregnancy test (or two or three or … it doesn’t matter), I’ve been scared to hope too much. To love too much. To believe too much.

Digital positive

This test couldn’t make it more clear.

That’s not to say I didn’t act like I was pregnant. I did. Prenatal vitamins (which I’d been taking previously anyway). No drinking (not even our delicious stock of special honeymoon wine). No sushi (Sushi, I think I’ll miss you the most). But there was still a bit of disbelief — made worse by the fact that I’ve not been sick, my pants are just now barely getting snug and everything is mostly functioning as normal. (Save the exhaustion, which, again, could easily have been attributed to the time of year.)

Seriously, I’ve had a hard time believing it.

Positive pregnancy tests

Sadly, this isn’t all of the tests. There were two digital tests (the results disappear after an hour, so no sense taking those pictures) and a couple of tests in the random cities I visited in January. And, yes, I realize how ridiculous this looks, how ridiculous it is. But there was a certain sense of calm that came with this little bit of temporary reassurance.

So, after hearing that precious. amazing heartbeat, a flood of emotions started making its way to the surface. And Friday night, that surface broke. And every feeling I’ve been trying not to feel finally got felt:

  • Happiness True, deep and utter elation. I am so excited to be a mom and for Mr. B be a dad. Especially since there was some time I didn’t know if it would be possible. I am beyond happy, overjoyed and ecstatic. I am all of these things times 100, no, 1,000, no, infinity. And it’s so nice to let myself feel it now.
  • Worry. Let’s be honest, I’m a worrier. It’s as much who I am as my name, age and DNA. Worrying is how I deal with the unknown. Is it ideal? No, it’s not. Is it the best way to live my life? Probably not. But worrying about things that could go wrong gives me something to occupy my mind while I wait for what’s to come. This is not good when I’m trying to have a low-stress pregnancy — for my own health and our baby’s health. The Internet has way too much … well … pointless crap for mothers-to-be to worry about. And, so, that’s what I’ve been doing while I waited to hear that heartbeat. That amazing little heartbeat that would be our first sign that all is well and Baby B is really, truly in there. So, hearing that heartbeat allowed me to release some of that worry and focus on the countless good things that are coming our way.
  • Hope. With that worry, I’ve been afraid to hope too much. But, man, when you’re carrying a new little life inside of you, it’s hard not to think about all of the wonderful things that are coming for your family. And all of the hope that comes with those wonderful new adventures. This is a big world, and in six short months, it’s going to get even bigger. And, golly, Mr. B and I are so full of hope for this new little life and our new family.
  • Guilt. This was a completely unexpected emotion. Mr. B and I didn’t try long for this baby. It happened sooner than we expected. And we are overjoyed. But, to be honest, I feel a little guilty about it. So many of my friends tried so hard for so long for a baby. Some eventually did get pregnant — after years of trying and tens of thousands of dollars of medical procedures. Some never did. While I am so ecstatic about this baby or ours, I have this strange guilt that it happened so easily for us when these other people — who would be the most fantastic parents ever — had such a hard time conceiving.
  • Blessed. On that note, though, in case you’re wondering: we couldn’t be happier about our Pickle. This baby is wanted more than I can describe. And Mr. B and I weren’t sad about our positive test — we had discussed it, chosen to stop birth control and were so very ready to be parents and share our love with a little one. We want this baby so badly. Did we think it would happen so quickly, so easily? In a word, no. It shouldn’t have been so easy. We shouldn’t have been so lucky. But we are. And we fully and completely recognize the blessing that is making a home in my belly right now. And not a day goes by that I don’t thank the powers that be for this gift. And I will do everything in my power — we’ll do everything in our power — to be the best parents we can possibly be. And to let this child know how much he/she is loved. Every single day. Starting from the day that very faint line appeared on that test.
  • Fear. There is a tremendous amount of fear that goes along with becoming a parent for the first time. There are just so many unknowns. So many things could happen — during the pregnancy, and during your child’s life. But, as a friend of mine told me the other day, “You can spend your time being scared of what could go wrong now or in the future, or you can spend your time enjoying every second of it because every day is a gift that you’re never going to get back.” This doesn’t mean that I’m not still scared. Because, oh man, am I. But it puts that fear in perspective and gives it a healthier place in this big, unknown, scary (but wonderful) world.
  • And the greatest of these is love. I don’t even know how to describe the huge, warm love that has made itself at home in me except that it’s huge and it’s warm. And it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It’s a whole new brand of love. To love this baby that I’ve never met is strange and wonderful and oh-so new.

So, last night, after all the tears were cried and the evidence (Kleenex) thrown away, I fell asleep in my normal corner of the couch. To be woken up when Mr. B came home from work after 11 — after I punched him in the neck, of course, because I think my mommy protective instincts are starting to kick in. (You can’t just sneak up on a sleeping pregnant lady and smooch her.)

And then, the two of us finally celebrated our little Pickle with a toast. And it felt good. And right. And so full of love.

Toasting Mr. B

Mine? Sparkling white grape juice. Mr. B’s? Dragon’s Milk.

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6 Comments

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6 responses to “A Flood of Emotion

  1. wendy warren

    😀

    Like

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  4. Pingback: A Flood of Emotion | The Pickle Chronicle

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