Saturday, July 19, 2014

CONFESSIONS OF A MOM


Gotta love growing pains! Not mine, although I’m having other kinds of pains. :) Tigger woke up several times this past week with growing pains. Anyone else remember having those? I do. My legs just ached and ached. I rolled around in bed then rubbed my legs as hard as I could against the mattress. Not fun.

So I feel for Tigger, especially since I’m sure he inherited them from me. I wish I could take them away, but I can’t.

One of those nights, I told Hubby I’d get up with because it was 2:45 and he had to be up at 5. And sometimes, actually most of the time, when Tigger wakes up at night it’s 2-3 hours before he gets back to sleep. This time was a little bit better. It only took about and hour and a half.

During that time, I alternated between sitting in a chair rubbing his legs and laying on the floor next to the bed because the chair had gotten too uncomfortable. (No, I didn’t last very long on the floor either.) However, while laying on the floor I had a realization.

I’ve said for a little while now that I’m done being pregnant. Of course everyone’s first response is that it’s too early for our new little one to arrive and he needs to “cook” as long as he can and all that other good stuff. I have to admit that those comments have bothered me. My thoughts ranged from, “Easy for you to say. You’re not pregnant.” to, “You’re not the one that’s hurting 27/7.” (which is not an exaggeration) to, “He’ll be fine with the technology we have today. It’s close enough.”

I realized on the hard floor that part of me feeling like I’m done being pregnant is I’m done waiting. There are too many things that could still go wrong. I just want him here so I can know for sure that he’s all right. We can have all the testing done in the world, I can have as many ultrasounds as possible, I can have all the reassurances from everyone, but there is still that little bit of doubt in the back of my mind. There’s that little bit of a what if . . . hanging in the background.

Now some people will say that you can’t live life with the what if’s. It can consume and make it impossible to move forward. And I believe that is true to an extend. When you’ve been through something similar to what we have, I don’t think there will ever be a way to not have some type of what if hanging around.

There is no guarantee of anything and the only way to know for sure is to have that little one resting in your arms. Then to add to the anxiety I’m working on not having, I’m at the point that there began to be indications of something not exactly the way it should be with Lion. Knowing what I know now makes me even more anxious.

It was around this time that I stopped gaining weight, the only real indication we had that something wasn’t exactly right. But at the time, I didn’t know or didn’t realize that. I had ultra sounds ever week. My OB measured something every time. I know realize it was the embryonic fluid, which was low. Could I have asked questions then? Yes. Should I have asked questions then? Probably. Did I think to ask questions then? No, so it really didn’t matter, but I can’t help but think of those things as I approach the end of this pregnancy.

Last time I didn’t care how much I had gained. This time I’m beginning to find myself on the scale once or twice a day. (That could just be due to the fact that we actually have a working scale thanks to Hubby. Not sure.)

Like I’ve said before, I’m working my way through things. I’m trying not to read into things. I’m trying to be patient. But . . . it’s not easy.

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