Living in Fear

Okay, that's a bit dramatic. I'm not LIVING in fear....I'm just residing in it for longer stints than I care to. And I suppose "fear" isn't exactly accurate, either. Trepidation, anxiety, precariousness. Y'all, I am quaking in my boots (that I am still wearing--thank you Midwestern "spring") about adding a baby to this house and to my life.

Part of me has forgotten too many details about raising a baby: weaning off the bottle, when/how to sleep train, breastfeeding details, how to assemble the stupid Baby Bjorn. Yeah, I know it doesn't matter, really, and I know it will come back to me or I will relearn it. But it's still a source of anxiety and I can't help it.

Part of me knows the reason for the stress is due to the presence of a strong-willed toddler in my house. A toddler that requires a specific act of discipline every 20-30 minutes; who's latest reaction to said discipline is to SCREAM BLOODY MURDER in my face; who is growing up faster than you can say "reform school." (That's a joke.) (I think.)

The thought of living through trying to enjoy the sleeplessness that comes with a newborn under these conditions is causing periods of hyperventilation and terror. And, here's the thing, one of the reasons I waited as long as I did to get pregnant again was that I wanted to be as "present" as possible for this pregnancy and the birth of a new baby. Because one never knows when one is pregnant for the last time, right? I am desperately trying to cling on to details of this pregnancy, and am flashing forward to the first three months of new life, which flew by faster than a Lear jet last time, bound and determined to get my head in the game and REMEMBER REMEMBER REMEMBER the newborn stage.

I'm terrified of waking up some morning next spring and realizing that my baby isn't a baby anymore, and that I missed it all because I was "tired" "crabby" "overwhelmed" "exhausted."

Oh, it feels better just to write this all out, honestly.

The good news is that I have recently started yoga again, after a three year hiatus. (The only yoga I've ever taken is prenatal.) I'm using a couple of videos and am thinking of joining a class on the weekends, and my body feels soooo goooooood when I'm done. I'm fairly certain that yoga contributed exactly nothing to my last birth experience, but I truly feel wonderfully peaceful when I've finished a session. And I can usually refrain from heading immediately to my pillow.

Speaking of. I'm off to the serenity of my basement, where I trade the inconvenience of hitting the ceiling during tree pose for the extra padding of the plush shag carpet (shut up).

Thanks for remaining loyal readers. :-)