This Baby Isn't Mine

16 weeks

This thought was really impressed upon me today, the seed of it having been planted a couple of days ago as I enjoyed broccoli quiche and iced tea at the Zucchini Blossom with my friend Leigh. "I have to remember that my children are God's," she said. "They've been given to me to look after, but ultimately they're His, and if He decided to take them, that's where they belong." I instantly realized what she said was true, but it wasn't until today as I drove along the highway singing along with the radio (songs featuring violin always get me) that I recalled I had never thanked God for this child. I thanked Him for entrusting it to me and instantly felt better.

No matter what happens--no matter the effects my out-of-control blood sugars in the beginning of the pregnancy may have had, no matter all the statistics I read that tell me babies of diabetic mothers are 4x more likely to have heart defects, no matter that there are higher rates of miscarriage, stillbirth, and all manner of deformation, this baby was never mine. I don't have to worry. I pray that it will be delivered to me healthy, strong, and live a long and prosperous life, but it's ultimately not my decision, and I shouldn't obsess about it. I want to be strong and prepared, but I always want to have a sense of thankfulness that God chose MY body to grow this child and decided that I was the right mother for it to have.

Right now I have this sense of feeling very prepared. I will be 27 years old when this kid is born, and I feel ready. If this had happened 5 years ago, I don't think I would've felt as ready or as peaceful. I don't feel panicked about whether I'll accidentally hurt this baby or whether I can handle any potential health problems it has or whether I'm mature enough to discipline it. My love feels deep enough, and where I'm lacking, God will step in and give a little.

16 Weeks Pregnant

13 weeks, just starting to show a little

I was thinking about how pregnancy has been treating me thus far. Really, part of me enjoys it--it is so COOL to be growing a human being, and to have a little Someone with me all the time. It changes the way you look at the world.

Part of the reason I've waited 4 years into marriage to get pregnant is because of a stunningly awful family history of pregnancy. And hey--I was right! My dearest mother was horribly nauseous and dehydrated through BOTH pregnancies and was hospitalized with each one. I followed in her footsteps to a lesser degree, losing 15 pounds within a few weeks and having to go to the ER to get an IV the day that I threw up 5+ times. I think my nausea was all in all less severe than hers, but the added fact of my being diabetic made it equally daunting. I remember waking up at night with low blood sugar, feeling horribly nauseated, and making myself throw up quickly so that I could get some food down and bring the sugar back up. As long as I could hold the food in for an hour or so, the blood sugar was okay. But forcing myself to eat while nauseated is probably one of the most unpleasant things I've had to do, and this is from the girl who has been sticking herself with needles 8+ times a day.

But besides that--and I know that's a big "besides"--I think pregnancy is pretty darn cool. Honestly, I'm consumed with it. I count the days 'til the next week, the weeks 'til I'm showing, 'til I can feel the baby kick, 'til I can finally find out the gender of the Little Bean on an ultrasound. I try not to talk about babies ALL the time, but I think I mostly fail. Pictures and stories of babies make me cry. Everything small makes me squeal with delight. I have become a slave to my feminine side!

I worry about a lot of things, but I've never really worried about my ability to be a mother. Perhaps being a nanny for so many years gave me the confidence I needed, but I'm pretty sure that any kid I have will like me just fine. I'm ready to teach it the important stuff: 

1.  Mummy loves you, but you're not the center of the world. 

2.  Don't pet the tabby cat, she'll bite you. You can pet the old cat, unless she's throwing up.

3.  Yes, you may be Mario for Halloween. 

4.  No, Mummy's and Daddy's needles are not a toy.

So keep growing, my Human Bean. I hope you're having the time of your life swimming in the darkness and growing and kicking at Mummy's stomach and whatever else you're doing. Kick a little harder, will ya? I'd like to feel you there.