I wait.
It’s what I do.
Beanie and Bump

Big Hands, Little Hands, Huge Belly

Sshh mamma, I think the baby is trying to tell me something…
It’s probably saying something like – hey woman, it’s getting cramped in here if the current activity level is anything to go by. Never a quiet moment in there. It’s all elbows, heels, bum and back in rapid succession. Then there’s the odd lovely punch in the cervix which causes me to intake breath sharply and practice my breathing. Sheesh.
Still, though I heartily look forward to the day I am no longer part whale/part woman, I am also still not ready to greet this new baby and all that will come before that. The fear swells and recedes and swells again and I’m ok with that. The ambivalence about actually holding the new baby in my arms is more troubling but I think that it’s more to do with my own fears of not coping with the challenges of two sweet spirits in my lap, arms and heart, than because I genuinely feel nothing.
This pregnancy has been the same and different to the one that brought me my beautiful Beanie girl. The same worries, discomforts and complaints but different in that I have not had the luxury of contemplation and conversation with this little soul. I am doing more of the inner birthing work as the weeks flee before me and the inevitable day approaches where my breathing techniques will become more than just vague theory but still I feel so unprepared. Maybe that’s ok too. Maybe you can never truly be prepared for such a life changing event, even if you’ve done it before! Going from one to two babes will be no less life changing than going from none to one I’m sure. I just wish I felt more excited about it. Less fearful. Less irritated and stressed.
My body is working hard and I am deeply, painfully uncomfortable for the most part. Searing deep backache and burning hips are now a regular part of each day and night. An inability to work far or stand for long exacerbates the problem. Sleep is now a galaxy far, far away that I would like to visit sometimes. Rest…well…my own mother is here to support me and so there is more of an opportunity to rest here and there. But at nearly 80 and with Beanie bouncing around like a jack in the box and demanding almost as much attention from Grannie Charlotte as she does from me, it’s hard work on my poor jetlagged mamma.
And so, I wait. Trepidacious. Cautiously hopeful. Strangely detached. A little afraid. Strong. Confused. Emotional. Unready, willing and, as always, trying so very hard to be enough, exactly as I am. 
*Beautiful photos taken by the very talented Sol-y-luna

3 thoughts on “Waiting

  1. Such a beautiful, honest post–as all of yours are. I've been steadily working through your archives over the last two months, often while nursing my own new little one, about whom I still felt some ambivalence up until the end. She is my light and love now, and I couldn't have imagined that when I was where you are now. And I so appreciate–about this post, and about everything you write–how you're willing to be authentic about your feelings and doubts and struggles in this motherhood thing. It has helped me. I've appreciated all your comments on my blog too and I don't know why it's taken me so long to explore yours, but I'm very glad I finally have. I think I've made it almost to 2007 now, working backwards, and it's wonderful reading. Much love to you as you approach the big, transformative day. If these things can be contagious, I'm sending you all my empowered gentle birth vibes.

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