When I was pregnant with Kyle, I glommed on to other blogs about pregnancy because they formed such a welcome lifeline of experience and information for me. I remember eagerly logging onto other women’s sites for updates and tales of bodily functions, so excited to read about deliveries and breastfeeding and napping issues.
I feel the same way this time, although I’m much more interested, of course, in stories about being pregnant while also being the mother of a toddler. I have noticed that writers who fit this category are much less faithful about posting frequently, or if they are prolific posters, they are not sharing as much about their pregnancies as they did the first time around.
Hey, guess what! That’s exactly what I’M doing!
It’s funny that I am saying that when the whole reason I started this blog in the first place was to write about my pregnancy, that life-changing, singular experience shared by zillions of women across the world and throughout millenia.
The other night Stewart remarked that I have been much less worried about this pregnancy than the first one. I was surprised, because I actually feel equally worried, although it is a different kind of worried. I guess I just don’t talk about it as much. The first time around, it was worry about the unknown, which made the producer in me read as much as I possibly could about every little stage, all the while planning my delivery in my head and working to “create my vision” out of our beige, beige house. I did a really good job with my vision. As you know, the delivery was fine and my house is now multicolored.
This time though, I have deeper worries. I feel like I know a lot more about what can go wrong. I’m so much more sensitive to news stories and things I hear through the grapevine about bad things that happen to children. One night a few weeks ago I actually had what I think was an anxiety attack. It was a bad mixture: me and my new sensitive nature, pregnancy hormones, 2 incidents of random violence in schools, CSI, and the end of the latest Harry Potter book had me lying awake in my bed at midnight, blinking in terror. I actually went out to Stewart who was still up watching TV in the living room and asked him through tears if he was coming to bed. Then I proceeded to unleash all of my crushing worries on him, only to get the argument “but those things happen to a very small percentage of people, blah blah. Ninety-nine percent of people go through life just fine blah blah blah.” My response? “TELL THAT TO THE PARENTS OF THE AMISH KIDS! WAAAAAHHHH!”
I’m still upset when I think about that. I know I have to be less emotional and I know I should stop paying attention to the news. I certainly have stopped watching all the shows I used to love that focus on death and killing as their primary subject. (87,521 episodes of Law and Order, et al, anyone?) But I am conflicted about the news. It would behoove me to avoid it, so I don’t see headlines like “Baby Dies at Daycare,” but it seems irresponsible to ignore it altogether. Plus, how can I? Information flies at me from every direction, and I am, even if it sounds immodest, rather observant. I’d have to wear a sleep mask and earplugs at all times to shut it all out. (Even then that insufferable dog next door’s bark would enter my consciousness at the base of my spine and reverberate in my skull with a shrill yip yip. I would actually have to go for complete sensory deprivation, like that lady in “V.”)
To that end, I have a confession. Somewhere along the line I stumbled upon a sub-genre of blogs about infant death. I know! I know. But their stories drew me in so quickly and powerfully that I could not click away. It’s a parent’s worst nightmare, and these people are living through it, and somehow they are surviving. I have limited myself to four of them. I am linking them here to be fair but if you are faint of heart (or pregnant) you may want to take my word for it.
This seems ridiculous as I type it but here it is: I feel like if I know about everything that could possibly go wrong with my pregnancy, then somehow I will be able to avoid it. Like I will recognize the signs of a placental abruption and get to the hospital faster, or I will notice when my baby stops moving and consult the doctor sooner, or I will be diligent in the delivery room (with Dr. Auntie Lisa by my side) and avoid a mishandled delivery. I know it’s impossible. Someone tell my heart.
WWC: Delicate. Intense.
OK, I am definitely not going to follow those links. I know how you feel, though. But sometimes I felt like even acknowledging that something could happen opened up the possibility that it would happen. Weird. Irrational. Illogical. But there it is.
kimmy – I think this is all perfectly normal, and you are going through what I went through with baby 1 (I did not read with Jackson, cuz I feared too much). I have sat up at night imagining fire exits from every room of my house, and have stopped reading anything about illness or death. Not so worried about kidnapping or abuse – somehow that seems outside of my realm or reality. My greatest fear is a fatal illness. Hang in there, and if you want to talk, let me know.
btw – are we seeing boy, or just a curvy placenta????
I guess it’s just the umbilical cord you’re seeing there. The doc didn’t even want to guess about the gender when this was taken.
What a magnificent picture – a great way to say intense and delicate!
The advanced level of technology we have now, as compared to when my children were born, gives us such an opportunity to be proactive. The ability to network with such a wide variety of moms on even a wider variety of topics and situations is mind boggling. Knowledge is power, as long as it moves us forward. I am reminded of my own anxious moments waiting for a flutter – a sign that all was well. My mother was 40 when I was born in 1955. I’ll bet she had the same worries as you and I. Even now, with a daughter pushing 30, I worry. It’s a mom thing, a matter of the heart, don’t you think?
Look at that beautiful baby growing inside of you! I know, I think it is every mother’s worst fear, to lose her child. When I see horrible things at work, I thank my lucky stars for my beautiful healthy daughter. Ok, now repeat after me, “This will not happen to me.” and enjoy your two beautiful growing children!
It is amazing how, with knowledge, comes fear…I think you take a deep breath, say a prayer and live your life doing the best you can to protect the ones you love. You have a beautiful, healthy little boy, and another miracle growing inside of you. Celebrate that and try to spend less time worrying about what ifs….that’s my two cents, in case you wanted it! 🙂
What, no 3D glasses for that 3D baby picture? 😉
I just can’t bring myself to click on those links. But I completely understand your concerns. I don’t have any children yet, and those things plague my mind all the time.
I know that when I was pregnant with Girlie Girlie I was worried about a host of different things than when I was pregnant with Little Man. I honestly believe I was less worried when I was pregnant the first time around. I just expected a normal pregnancy and when I didn’t get it (Little Man was born 7 weeks premature) I had so many issues with that and they all came back to me when I was pregnant with Girlie Girlie.
If you really think about it — it takes alot more for a pregnancy to go right and result in a baby than it does for something to go wrong. I honestly think what you are feeling is very normal and will wane and ebb as you continue throughout the months ahead.
Use your blog to help yourself work through it all.
Ok so I totally followed the link to the Nate blog. Must say that I just read the entire thing and cried my eyes out. But, now I’m hooked.