Sometimes I wish I could rid myself of worry. I know that worrying is unproductive and even harmful to my pregnancy. As my doctor said, “if you convince yourself something is impending, it will certainly happen.” So I am trying to take this day by day and celebrate little things: 1) sickness; 2) back, hip, and breast pain; and 3) exhaustion.
[I realize celebrating these things might sound silly, and completely contrary to how most pregnant women feel, but I might as well see these as good indicators rather than frustrating aspects of growing a fetus.]
However, my memories recall feeling sickness and pain and exhaustion and things not continuing like I hoped. Even worse, the sickness did not increase like it did with Emily and Andrew, my only healthy pregnancies, and so I worry about NOT feeling sick or the sickness not getting worse.
It’s this constant game of telling myself to breathe and think optimistically while holding on to that fear and having the anxiety settle within my stomach. Deep inside, I want to fast forward 20 weeks where I could feel relatively safe. Yet I know that is impossible and that I should enjoy the next unfolding weeks.
How can I be so patient with my kids yet so impatient with this pregnancy and myself?
Writing is my only release as tension builds up. How can I convince my head things will be all right? I WANT to feel that. Somewhere in my heart I think it, I’m just having trouble convincing my mind. And, by golly, even if it doesn’t, I want to make this a terrific ride.
Will you help me? I challenge you to throw all the positive thinking you can my way.
Ready, set, GO!