First, an announcement: As of the end of the day yesterday, I’ve successfully made it two weeks without any spotting. Now that’s a celebration-worthy milestone! (So I’m having chili for lunch! And a soda! We’ll see how this goes…)
So anyway, I’ve been thinking about having a baby. Not labor, but actually possessing the wee thing. And it’s funny, but everyone is telling the truth when they say that it’s very difficult to visualize this until it actually happens.
I’ve tried to picture myself at home with a baby, and have only small success.
I’ve tried to picture myself at work as a mom away from her baby, and can’t make it work at all — all I can get to form in my mind is adding baby pictures to my work area.
I’ve tried to picture myself shopping with a stroller or baby carrier, and can only do it in the most abstract of ways.
The one place where I can totally see myself with a baby is church — and I’ve got that all worked out. I can imagine slipping out into the narthex when s/he gets fussy. I can see the baptism; I can even see a few years down the road when s/he sings in the Cherub or Angelus choirs. I have to confess that I fantasize that there will be few enough babies born next year that they’ll recruit an 8-month-old for the Christ Child next Christmas Eve.
Last time, I never had a sense of there being a baby in there. I’d like to say that I just didn’t have time for it to sink in, but that’s not true because I had ten weeks of perceived pregnancy last year, and am only in week eight now — and have a much stronger sense of “future personhood” this time. After the miscarriage, the irrational side of me tried to throw blame on myself. I hadn’t written in a pregnancy journal. I hadn’t taken belly pictures. I obviously didn’t care enough. If I’d just cared more, if I’d just done more, then it wouldn’t have been taken away from me. It’s one of those things that, even as you think it, you know it’s crazy — but it’s somehow necessary to think it, nonetheless, necessary to try to attribute some rationale even if it isn’t rational.
This time around, my mind is in a different place. I haven’t been very interested in books and websites (last time I was a forum junkie); I’ve got a little app on my phone that I check every day, but I find that I have little interest in looking at the CGI fetus “photos.” The only online reading I’ve done has been to find answers about dietary questions.
Instead of thinking about what type of berry is the same size as Laryanelle, I keep thinking about round baby bellies. That round little swell of babiness that’s just exactly the right size and shape to be cupped in the palm of your hand. You know what I’m talking about. And even though I can’t visualize having a baby… I can feel that belly under my palm. I can feel the warmth and the soft baby skin. This baby is real and the thought of having to wait 31 weeks to meet him or her is pretty daunting.