As I sit here, worry coursing through my veins, I am humbled by the very activity taking place within my body. She's growing, she learning, she's shuffling. When I don’t feel her moving, I am overcome with anxiety and slight panic that maybe she’s gone...
"What if she’s gone"? It’s not unusual for this question to play on repeat in my head, seconds before I feel a nudge or a kick from her. It's as though she's trying to say, “chill out mom, I’m fine”.
When I wake at night I pause before flipping sides or getting out of bed to see if I can feel her. She gives me a few pokes in acknowledgement to waking me up, and I’m good to resume my sleep again. It’s as if she knows exactly what I need, and when. She's such a good little girl already. :)
My New Normal wrote a beautiful post a couple weeks ago which had me in tears. She wrote about hope sneaking in and taking over when she least expects it, and the vulnerability that comes with that. It’s true, there’s so much on the line, so much to fear. What if it doesn’t work out this time, either?
But oh if it does...
It’s too late for me. I am already hook-line-and-sinker for this little stinker. My heart is hers already. Despite my attempts to keep my expectations at a reasonable level, and although I want to approach her life and my love for her slowly, cautiously, and realistically, it’s really been over before it even begun.
I feel unabashed pride and excitement at the mere thought of holding her for the first time, hearing her sweet cries and (please?) bringing her home for keeps. My heart swells at the very thought of it... Of having someone to physically hold in my arms after months and months of emptiness. Of someone to keep me up at night begging for sleep, because I’ve slept all too well without the obligation for the past year. It's difficult, because I possess equal parts optimism and downright terror. For the most part though, I choose to let the happy take over and consume me.
Just like her big brother, Gracie has a personality all her own which I have come to know through her movements and responses to stimuli. For example, she’s already a daddy’s girl.Last Sunday I awoke before Scott and moved myself (with great effort and a lot of noise from my creaking hips, I hasten to add) to the couch to watch television while Scott slept. As I did so, I felt a few movements from her- enough to know she was okay, and then didn’t feel much of anything. I assumed she went back to bed, which is more than okay with me.Not thirty minutes later, Scott awoke and came to check on me. He asked if everything was okay and before I could even answer, Gracie started rapidly moving around in my belly, as though to scream “hey dad! I’m awake. Look at me”! Not even seconds before she was sleeping but in hearing her daddy’s voice, she was awake.
So cute.I’m in so much trouble. These two are going to be inseparable, and really? I can't wait!