Taking a deep breath & posting a few drafts from the past couple of months... This one is from nearly 6 weeks ago. There are more to come...
As a side note - i have been wanting to blog more, but a little one broke my laptop screen and we just can't stomach the funds to get it fixed right now, so i haven't been able to write as much as i've wanted to. Oh, i've had some good thoughts that have flitted in... & flitted out. i really, really miss my laptop and late night writing sessions when my husband is out of town. But for now - here is a little bit of life to share...
At the time of this writing, i am seven weeks pregnant... and it's a secret.
i've done both - the frantic spilling of beans and the careful holding of news... and i've found that the careful holding of news seems to spare me some anxiety - so despite the heaving volcano inside wanting to jump up and tell the world our news, i'm holding it, examining it, pondering it and keeping it... just for now.
i guess anxiety is to be expected for a mama who has miscarried three times. i know that sometimes my little ones have come to stay - and sometimes their stay has been painfully short. And so in these months - tho i have never been able to hold back the waves of love that lap over the little one growing in the secret place - i hold them with open hands, accepting this gift from the Creator, yet knowing that the Great Giver and Taker of life is sovereign... and i trust Him.
i don't know why i feel less anxious when less people know about my tiny growing one - but i do. It's some psychological blip that makes me feel the comfort of solitude in waiting out these anxious weeks... of course, i'm never completely successful in my secret keeping - my husband is in on it - and as of a day or two ago - so are my big girls... Which brings me to the next reason waiting works for me:
Morning sickness? Is awful. i won't dwell on this topic because goodness knows, i could fill page after page of whining, complaining and self-absorption. i'm so sorry that the first trimester seems to shake everything out of me - leaving me exhausted, nauseated and useless. i needed to let my bigs in on the secret because i owed it to them after my bewildering sudden failure to do and be and cook and teach. But i've found that sometimes - if i talk less, i complain less... i hope it works - even just a little.
When i'm nauseated and tired and hormonal - to the point that it's really hard just to focus on anything other than that tiny, flailing being that is making me feel so rotten, i start to fantasize about telling people. If only to explain myself, to give a real reason to little furrowed brows of little people who wonder why mama is being such a lunk.
i'm counting down in my head - not that many more days - then you can tell, paige...
But then i imagine the reactions that are going to feel like a kick when i'm down & i start to think that maybe any number of days wouldn't feel like enough.
"i'd kill myself if i were you!!"
"How old are you anyway??!!"
"i thought you weren't having any more?"
and oh my heart, i just know i'm not strong enough to string together coherency amidst my nausea... i know i'm not smart enough to respond with wisdom amidst my first trimester exhaustion...
And so i bite my tongue and think to myself - in a few weeks i'll deal with all that...
But meanwhile, my little one grows.
Tiny son or daughter sprouts arms and legs, and furiously beating heart begins to pound in wee forming chest.
Technically - this little person is still considered an "embryo".
But my baby is blissfully unaware of this title - and is growing, doubling in size, taking what is needed from mama...
In a matter of days - baby will be out of the embryonic period, and enter the fetal period... It will be the same babe created on the very day of conception - the same one who had a tail and paddle hands, the same one who will one day... hopefully... be in my arms pursing pink lips - blinking in the light of day.
And so - i hope that someday i can post this... when i'm not seven weeks pregnant. A little memory of the snivelling, barfing, mess that i was in this first trimester - daily making the choice to trade anxiety for gratitude and sickness for a slower pace - and imagining the little June baby who will make every moment worthwhile.