There have been a lot of emotions surrounding this second pregnancy lately. Being full of Third Trimester Hormones doesn't help anyone, of course. But there's been a lot of anticipation and anxiety.
On good days, I am thrilled that we are having another baby, and do not take it for granted. I am anxious to meet our sweet little boy, who seems anxious to meet me, if his kicks and shoves are any indication. I am thankful that our two sweet boys will be so close together. David and I are both the oldest siblings in our families, and both of us have 5 years between us and the next sibling. Having a brother or sister so close is a strange and wonderful concept for us.
On good days, I have so peacefully rested in the knowledge that God's timing is perfect. Milo will come when he's ready, our house will be completed when it's supposed to be, and we no longer are waiting for David's promotion (praise God!). I am soaking up the time we have left with our precious first-born, the sweet giggles and his God-given snuggles. I thank God for our wonderful life and cannot believe how richly and undeservedly blessed we are.
On bad days, however, it's harder to focus on those things. On the bad days, I shed tears over the time I feel that we're stealing away from Sam. I am terrified that he will not receive the love and attention that he needs or wants. I am filled with fear that Milo will be a harder baby than Sam was, that he won't sleep, that I won't eat or ever sleep again.
On bad days, I am anxious about when Milo will come and when our house will be completed. Will Milo or the house come first? I am short of breath, completely lacking in energy, and knowing that I have to pack our entire apartment in the next 6 weeks is overwhelming. I am exhausted by this child inside me, who will not be still, who pushes on me so hard that I have cried out - frequently. I am bitter that our insurance isn't paying for our birth plan, that David has to work a second job to pay for our second child, and that he will probably still be working five nights a week when I have a newborn and a toddler. Five nights. In a row. By myself. Maybe Sam just won't need baths except for two nights a week. I cry, uncontrollably, for no reason at all.
This is such a rough, wonderful season, where God has taught us so much and revealed so much of His love and providence. We were never supposed to be able to get pregnant on our own, and we have twice now. We have escaped the hardship that so many of our dearest friends have. I have difficult pregnancies and I have a hard time being limited, but I thank God for my babies. Having a family - being a family - is incredibly difficult and incredibly rewarding. It's brought David and I closer together, made us united in an amazing cause - and shown us how much we need God's guidance and grace.
Seven(ish) more weeks. I have seven more weeks of uncertainty and getting my butt kicked from the inside out and not knowing what life with Milo will look like (and, Lord have mercy, having to pee every twenty minutes). We are about to experience more change than ever before in our lives, and all at once. I am scared, I am hormonal, and I am thrilled. Pray for me. And David. Poor shmuck.
On good days, I am thrilled that we are having another baby, and do not take it for granted. I am anxious to meet our sweet little boy, who seems anxious to meet me, if his kicks and shoves are any indication. I am thankful that our two sweet boys will be so close together. David and I are both the oldest siblings in our families, and both of us have 5 years between us and the next sibling. Having a brother or sister so close is a strange and wonderful concept for us.
On good days, I have so peacefully rested in the knowledge that God's timing is perfect. Milo will come when he's ready, our house will be completed when it's supposed to be, and we no longer are waiting for David's promotion (praise God!). I am soaking up the time we have left with our precious first-born, the sweet giggles and his God-given snuggles. I thank God for our wonderful life and cannot believe how richly and undeservedly blessed we are.
On bad days, however, it's harder to focus on those things. On the bad days, I shed tears over the time I feel that we're stealing away from Sam. I am terrified that he will not receive the love and attention that he needs or wants. I am filled with fear that Milo will be a harder baby than Sam was, that he won't sleep, that I won't eat or ever sleep again.
On bad days, I am anxious about when Milo will come and when our house will be completed. Will Milo or the house come first? I am short of breath, completely lacking in energy, and knowing that I have to pack our entire apartment in the next 6 weeks is overwhelming. I am exhausted by this child inside me, who will not be still, who pushes on me so hard that I have cried out - frequently. I am bitter that our insurance isn't paying for our birth plan, that David has to work a second job to pay for our second child, and that he will probably still be working five nights a week when I have a newborn and a toddler. Five nights. In a row. By myself. Maybe Sam just won't need baths except for two nights a week. I cry, uncontrollably, for no reason at all.
This is such a rough, wonderful season, where God has taught us so much and revealed so much of His love and providence. We were never supposed to be able to get pregnant on our own, and we have twice now. We have escaped the hardship that so many of our dearest friends have. I have difficult pregnancies and I have a hard time being limited, but I thank God for my babies. Having a family - being a family - is incredibly difficult and incredibly rewarding. It's brought David and I closer together, made us united in an amazing cause - and shown us how much we need God's guidance and grace.
Seven(ish) more weeks. I have seven more weeks of uncertainty and getting my butt kicked from the inside out and not knowing what life with Milo will look like (and, Lord have mercy, having to pee every twenty minutes). We are about to experience more change than ever before in our lives, and all at once. I am scared, I am hormonal, and I am thrilled. Pray for me. And David. Poor shmuck.
