Fear

When thinking of what to write about today, Andy suggested I do a "Dear Angus," letter, saying whatever I'd want to say to this tiny person growing inside of me. The truth is that I'm not ready to. I'm still so afraid that it won't last, that something could be wrong, though I've got no reason to think so. I'm afraid to start buying things, either for baby or for me. Andy's been trying to encourage me to go ahead and buy some maternity clothing for work, since there are already several pairs of my pants that I've given up on, and the ones that fit me now probably won't in another few weeks, but I'm just not ready. I agreed to buy a couple of sleep shirts with built-in bras, since sleeping without one at this point is just not an option. My boobs are so damn big and sore, they ache all the time.

As excited as I am to tell people our news, I'm also sort of wishing we could put it off as long as possible because I don't want to do anything to jinx this pregnancy. Believe me, I know how silly and illogical that sounds, but things are going so well, and I want them to keep going well, and don't know how to guarantee that.

So, the idea of talking directly to this small, small life we've created, and telling him/her how loved he/she is, and how excited we are for his/her arrival, is just too terrifying at this point. Will I be past these silly fears at 12 weeks? At 18? At birth? I have no idea. And I know that preparing for the worst does nothing but make this time more stressful, but I'm just not yet able to be entirely hopeful, either. I'll admit it, I'm attached. Already, I do have visions of all kinds of times with Baby, laying on the couch, walking in a park, visiting Grandma and Grandpa, and Aunt Manda. All of those pregnancy websites that say, "Your baby can now suck his/her thumb," don't really help in my attempts to not get attached too quickly, that's for sure.

I guess this is why they give me 9 months, huh? Time to get used to the idea of being pregnant, being a parent, and hopefully, to start being less afraid and more confident in the abilities of my body to grow a person, and in my ability to raise one.