You all know I love my son Choo-choo with my whole heart. I have mentioned this more than just a time or two.
Despite this love, however, I still cannot think of my pregnancy without waves of anxiety washing over me. My heart races; my stomach churns. I feel lightheaded, like I might faint at any given moment.
There were only two good things about my pregnancy, according to me both then and now:
- Feeling Choo-choo moving around in the womb. Let me tell you, it is such an incredible, amazing, sometimes odd thing to have happen. I mean, there is a whole other being moving, outside of your control. From flutters to full-on karate kicks, Choo-choo did them all, and I enjoyed every moment of it.
- Knowing my child was growing and would soon be out in the world for us to love, cherish, and take care of.
Everything else of pregnancy was just soreness, exhaustion, swelling, and worry. So, so much worry, about everything and anything. All the possibilities of life that could befall my son. Was he gaining enough weight? Was he healthy? Would he know I love him? How could I keep him safe from all the bad–i.e. danger, heartbreak, predators–in the world?
I used to be a stomach sleeper, so I spent months terrified my tired mind would forget and I’d roll onto my pregnant belly and squish him. I got nervous in public in case someone bumped into me or even ran me over, accidentally or otherwise. I cried over the foods I ate because I was terrified I’d consumed too many pesticides and not enough of all the good things like vegetables.
And while remembering Choo-choo as a newborn is equally difficult at times since I was in the deep ocean of depression by that point, I still had my child to hold. I could still see his face and look in his eyes and pray over him in a way that felt different during pregnancy.
Many people, especially relatives, have asked if Diesel and I would like to have another child. While this is a personal question that only my husband and I can decide together, I will say my immediate answer is always, “NO!” Not that I wouldn’t love having a bigger family. It’s just that, for me, those depths of despair were awful enough to scare me away from ever wanting to be pregnant again.
Before I’d ever consider it again, I would like to be able to look on the months I was expecting as a time not quite so unpleasant as I do now.