When he’s quiet and still, I worry.
All this preparation, all this time, all this forward movement, I worry it’s going to halt, to get to the finish line to only fail to cross it.
And I know that even if everything goes well, I’ll still worry for the rest of his life because that’s what moms do. We worry.
We worry about what we can’t control and the unexpected and that all our hard work will be for naught at someone else’s careless hands. We worry we aren’t enough. That we aren’t loving them enough or patient enough or playing with them enough. We worry that we aren’t seeing them for who they are. We worry if we’ve made the right decisions in where they’re going to school (or not going to school) or if we’ve given them enough chances to learn social skills or fed them the right diet, surrounded them with the right environments and people and exposed them to enough without exposing them to too much.
We worry because they are parts of our heart walking around outside of our chest, with free will and free thoughts and so fragile, so malleable.
I should be grateful he’s still where I know he’s safe, where my voice and my heartbeat and the sway of my hips lull him safely to sleep, where only I can protect him…except I know that’s not really the case, even though I tell myself it is to avoid dwelling in the land of “what ifs,” praying I never have to live in the land of “should haves”.
Get us through this transition in our lives, preparing for and meeting each other for the first time earthside. I don’t know when or how or where it will happen, but I know that it will happen, and that’s the most terrifying and thrilling thing of all. Thank You, Lord, for the opportunity to feel this fear again, and to learn how to live with it, that You have trusted me with his care, that I may become a mother once again: a mother, in all her terrified, heart bursting, overwhelmed, overtired, state of constant worry and joy to now not one but two boys. I’m ready to be her.
“To birth [and live] without fear doesn’t mean that you won’t be afraid. It means you allow yourself to process everything: let the fears come up, assess where they came from (is this my instincts? is this something I read from a book or heard from a friend or read online?) and then walk through them one at a time.” ~January Harshe
Huge thank you to my long time friend, Jenna B., for taking some photos for us while we were in Michigan a few weeks ago. Even though the weather stunk and the toddler was in full force, you got some great shots. Thank you. ❤