Never in a million years did I think my post from yesterday would create such a buzz, I never dreamed that so many of you would leave your heartfelt comments filled with support and I never, ever dreamed that I’d leave it up as the top post for so long.
Lord have mercy, I have got to move the photos down of me in my underwear. GAH.
In all seriousness, I am overwhelmed by all of the love you all showed me yesterday. I honestly feared 7 comments, some of them saying something like “aw, don’t feel bad, I have tons of cellulite, too.” or “I like the color of your walls.” or “what does your husband think about these photos being on your blog.”
But no, I received nothing but support from you amazing people and I am humbled and feel so fortunate to have this outlet. (that I love, because of you.)
(by the way, my husband was very supportive.)
Moving in another direction but still baby related, (I’m pretty sure every post will be baby related from now until three years from now. You have been warned)
We have this for the baby’s room:
I bought it off of Etsy (will link to it when I reveal the nursery that I may or may not finish. EVER.) This owl sits inside the baby’s crib, which sits inside the baby’s room. The room that is painted and just waiting for me to fill it with gliders and pictures and diapers and good smelling baby clothes…
Except I can’t. I can’t do anything. The bedding is sitting in a bag beside the crib. The newborn clothes are sitting in a bag, all fresh and folded (thanks to my sister, Sarah) and waiting to be placed in drawers. I walk into his room and I am paralyzed by fear. Fear that the room I am in will never actually meet this baby that RIGHT NOW is either standing, walking or break dancing inside of my belly. (I can’t tell which but HE IS SO BUSY.)
It’s a real fear. I huge anxiety for me and I am working with and am being treated by doctors for this. It hurts my heart because I want to believe … I want to believe so badly but history and my heart are stopping me with massive, ugly, barricades.
I’m hoping to force myself through, I need to do this room, not to be that person who is TOTALLY READY FOR THE BABY but to prove to myself and my heart and my kids that it’s okay to believe and dream and to have faith.
and to trust. Trust is what I need to do.
My hope is that tomorrow (or the next day or the next day) I’ll be able to pick up some baby items for his room that will help me take steps closer to chipping away at this stupid anxiety that has such a grip on my weary soul. I’m pretty sure I can beat it, but I do know that if I can’t beat it now, I most certainly will when there is a baby in my arms.
Your post touched me today. I want to reach right through the monitor and hug you and say “Breathe. Just breathe. Nothing else matters.”
When I was pregnant with my second, I was terrified that this child wouldn’t survive either. When it turned into a high-risk pregnancy and I wound up on bedrest, it was paralyzing in more ways than one. We had a small townhouse and the nursery we had started the first time around had to be the nursery once again, and I just couldn’t do it. I desperately wanted to start making a baby blanket for baby#2 and I couldn’t make myself start it. People kept asking me if we had chosen a name yet, or started a list of names, and I couldn’t admit that I couldn’t bear to name this child yet… that I needed the distance that came with calling him “Peanut” or “Bump” instead of calling him by name. I told everyone I had to meet him first before I could name him. I didn’t tell them I afraid that somehow he wouldn’t live past his naming.
Somewhere in the final weeks of pregnancy, I picked up my crochet hook and started working, not on the blanket for this baby, but for the one we had lost. When it was finished, I laid on the rocking chair in the nursery, and I felt at peace. My first baby suddenly had a concrete presence in the nursery that until that moment had been a symbol of everything we had lost. She was THERE, right there, waiting to welcome her brother and wrap him in love. Placing that blanket in the nursery unlocked something in me that needed unlocking.
Maybe if you take some of your treasures from your dresser and move them to the nursery for a while, it will help. And maybe not. Either way, just breathe. That’s all you really need to do. Everything else can wait.
Blessings.
“…we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that
suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us…”
Romans 5:3-5
xoxo
I just had to leave a note to let you know how I identify with your life story in so many ways. I am about your age with a 7 year old daughter and a 6 year old son. My husband and I really want to expand our family but aren’t having any success. I feel guilty in so many ways for not being happy and content with the two blessings I already have. Yet I am scared also that I will experience exactly what you have; the promise of more and then it is taken away from me. As hard as not getting pregnant has been I can’t fathom what you have gone through with your losses. SO I am praying blessings and health on you new little one to come. And eagerly awaiting the blog post announcing him:)!
You will get there and you will find a way to trust, be patient with yourself, you are doing a fabulous job!!!
When you have him in your arms, I will breathe a big sigh of relief for you and with you — not that I have doubts at all, just that it’s so easy for me to understand your feelings of fear and doubt that I can feel them alongside you. And actually I am so, so proud and happy about how much hope you have allowed yourself for this baby boy! You HAVE already let down your guard to a huge degree, you know? And that has taken so much faith and courage, Beth! Don’t underestimate how very much you have accomplished in terms of getting attached to and LOVING your new little googy-man with a heart that so understandably fights a bit to protect itself. Look how far you’ve come. LOOK HOW FAR YOU’VE COME and know that there are only a few more steps on your journey. And whether you take those today, or next week or not until the moment he’s safely and healthily tucked into your arms, YOU WILL GET THERE, nursery-ready or not. And OH GIRL, how I am going to celebrate that moment with you! I can’t wait to see that first picture of your two faces together, his teeny face peeking out of a blanket, squinchy and munchy and delicious, and your face radiant with love and triumph. I’m pretty sure it’s going to move me so deeply that I may never recover!
Love to all of you.
Beautiful post (yesterday’s too!) but I don’t feel like I have anything helpful to say today. So, I’ll ditto all the positives left for you … we’re all thinking and praying for you Beth.
You can do this! You are so much stronger than you think you are. Take small steps, baby steps. Do one thing at a time. Take a break to think and handle the emotions that you are so aware of being there. You can do this for yourself, for your hubby and your kids. You are ready!
Very touching post.
It made me recall when I was waiting for our first daughter (who is adopted). We had had two previous adoptions fall through, and so even though we were matched with a birth mom and things seemed to be moving along well, I had so much trouble believing that everything would work out. . . . and even though we knew it was a little girl, I would not buy girl things because I thought it might jinx things.
Hang in there. I’ll be sending good thoughts your way.
That was such a real and heartfelt post Beth. I’m used to seeing a lot of blogs about small things that don’t say much about the person writing them but yours was very touching and honest. I won’t pretend I know what your situation was like but I hope that you now have a beautiful healthy child, or that it is at least on the way. Good luck to you and your family.