Monday, July 19, 2010

Difficulty Increases Desire

At 30 weeks prego, I am carrying a kangaroo about the size of a small elephant. It’s fantastic! I love feeling this little one move around all day, I can’t describe the feeling of watching a little foot or hand glide across the inside of my shiny, round tummy. We are having so much fun together, getting to know the ins and outs of mommy-and-baby life. I think Kangaroo will have her Daddy’s tree trunk legs and strength at soccer, as her kicks are sometimes inflammatory. I’ll be sitting here, minding my own business, and POW! – it takes my breath away. Co-workers have witnessed the mortal combat as we set tables for dinner service, on one occasion, I hollered “HEY IN THERE!” - much to everyone’s humor.

And it is funny. It’s giggle-worthy 90% of the time, without a doubt.

Of course, there have been moments of sheer terror, utter sadness, and physical agony. Like last night.

After a long night of bartending – a task I attempt only one night a week these days – I made my way into bed with a large bowl of freezer burned ice cream. I hoped the soft, cold dish would wear away the headache and ease my over-tempered body into the submission of sleep I’d been longing for throughout the night. Instead, as I set the empty bowl on my nightstand, I felt a sudden but definite urgency that sent me hurrying toward the bathroom – pretty much the only room in the house that provides any veil of privacy.

I cried like a baby. I sat on the toilet and cried like a kid who lost her best bud. I still can’t say exactly what came over me, only relate my reaction to the back & belly pain, the constant muscle achiness in my legs, and overwhelming sense of anxiety over the still 2 and a half months I have to wait to meet my baby.

Returning to the bedroom, I realize how loud I must have been, “What’s wrong, baby?” Stacey’s voice has a sincerity to it that makes me understand what a lucky woman I am.

I said this next line out of sheer self-pity, “I don’t want to be pregnant anymore.”


It’s much more difficult than I ever imagined. Through all these joyous moments that turn you into a parent, you struggle, and for me, I sometimes do it in vain. I am ashamed sometimes of how badly I want it to be over – to adopt all subsequent babies – but I am honest with myself and understand that this has been a hard, long pregnancy.

For all the kangaroo-mommys out there who have done this twice (three, four, or more times), I tip my glass of bubbly grape juice to you. In a hundred years, I could never have imagined the challenge that lay before as my little pink pregnancy test turn to a plus sign. Or the happiness.

I am tempted to call my Mom right now – she gives the best advice – but as a mother-to-be, I can almost hear her words… “Jackie, I am so sorry you are going through this. Every woman does. You are a strong woman! You will be fine. And at the end of all of this, you will forget the hard part and eventually want to do it all over again.”
I am delighted to say I believe my own words in this case, but September 18th can’t come soon enough!

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