I am generally pretty optimistic and light-hearted. I’m never depressed anymore, and I tend to get through the inevitable mood swing by consciously being grateful and getting a little more sleep than usual. I’ve been fairly emotionally solid throughout my whole pregnancy, too, except for the occasional crankiness and uncertainty in the beginning, which I’m sure had as much to do with constant fatigue as anything else. Now I’m 7 months along, and just today I started to feel sort of… sad. I’m sure this will pass and I will get back to being excited and optimistic, but for now I have this lump in my throat and no solid reason for it.
I know it has something to do with the fact that I’m nearing the end- soon I will have a child to care for and everything will change. I am not sad about this! I’m actually totally excited. I am overwhelmed with all that I feel I have to do, the fact that I feel alone to do it (which is really in my head, but having to delegate responsibilities to even willing parties can sometimes be a daunting task), and just a general “how the fuck am I supposed to do this?” feeling.
I am also dealing with my changing body and the way I feel about it. The funny thing is, even back when my body was totally fresh and unscarred, I still felt plagued with uncertainty about it. I’m sure that’s just being young, but now, at 23, I’m looking back just 7 months and thinking “God, why wasn’t I more grateful for that?” I’m trying to gain some perspective on this, really. I know that at 17 I could easily point out the imperfections I thought I had, but now I think that’s a complete load of crap and that my perception was off. I know this will be true for me again. I know that it is only my perception that is keeping me from feeling content.
I also really want to be one of those women that celebrates her body, not one that looks on it with vanity and disdain. I think it has been hard for me to have my body change so quickly in just a matter of months. I saw my first silvery slivers below my belly button a couple of weeks ago, and I literally cried. I now realize that they are really not that noticeable, and also that 90% of women get them, but I couldn’t help but feel like my youth was fading. I’m glad that my only options are to A) feel sorry for myself and tell myself I’m not good enough or B) own these changes and accept them as part of my journey- battle scars or something valiant like that. I know myself, and I know that I will do option A sometimes, but I will land on option B. To achieve this, I need to be sure to spend time meditating on body-positive thoughts. I need to do more yoga- preferably every day. I need to walk and spend time exercising, just for general health and to help balance hormones. I need to focus on being happy to be a house for my child. How cool is that? I have a choice, and I can feel honored help this new life grow.
I guess I can have a sad day or two. Just writing this has helped me relax a little. When I’m feeling stressed I like to listen to the song “Trouble” by Ray LaMontagne. It just calms me for some reason.
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Boy do I remember this stuff. Of course you feel overwhelmed! You have no idea what to expect! I know I didn’t. I remember thinking “How am I supposed to be someone’s MOTHER,” knowing that I could do it but just not being able to grasp the utter profundity of it all. Knowing my life would change forever and knowing that that was mostly good but also something to grieve in some ways. Knowing that it was ok to feel that way but still having guilt sometimes.
You’ll do it and you’ll reflect on it down the road and, I’m sure, have some great insights about it all. It is all part of the crazy cosmic chaos that is this strange and beautiful life.
Anyway, try to let yourself feel what you feel. Just let it pass through you and try not to judge any of it. Totally easier said than done, but just trying helps. You’re super-duper loved, and this kid will be too. You’re not alone by any measure–and I know you know this but maybe you need to be told–this child is going to grow up in a Village of Love, with it’s momma and poppa and aunts and uncles and cousins and friends and grandmas and…don’t forget…The GRAM-PA! Ha ha.
All will be well. 🙂 But this is in some ways a grieving process, and you’re right on track.