03.14.05

This morning as I was sitting at my desk at work, I began to feel the familiar rolling of the baby inside of me. I was reading the entries for the Diarist Awards and just happened to be reading this entry. When I felt the baby start to move, rather than just subconsciously acknowledge it like I do most of the time now, I took a moment to rest my hand on my belly.

He has been head down and backside-out for a while now, so usually I just feel the protruding arch of his back and behind. But this time his little foot kicked out at just the right moment. And suddenly I was holding his tiny little heel in between my fingers. I pushed and he pushed back. I couldn�t help it; I started to cry.

Because unlike the heartbreaking story that I was reading at the time, my baby has overcome all of my worst fears. He is healthy and strong and I know that even if something awful happened to me in the next few days, he could make it. I never took this for granted. I have been silently holding my breath for the past nine months straight--in some ways, I still am.

And I will admit that in the past few weeks, I have been feeling increasingly distressed that my �motherly instincts� haven�t kicked in the way I hoped. People ask me all the time if I�m excited, and I dutifully answer that yes, we are so, so excited. But most of the time, I feel like I am lying. I don�t really feel excited. I haven�t been shrouded in a cloud of blissful expectation like I always pictured I would be. I have felt fear and anxiety. I have even felt ambivalent and unsure.

But today, as I cradled the outline of that little foot and appreciated for a moment that we had made it this far together, I felt nothing but love. Pure love and happiness. That is my baby in there. He is already beautiful. He is wanted. No matter what.

But it still isn�t exactly �excitement� that I am feeling. Not like the way I picture feelings of excitement to be. Excitement is for Disneyland, for long-planned vacations, for Christmas morning. Excitement is fleeting and represents the anticipation of just one event. No, this is different. This is like the blissful relief that you feel at coming home from a long journey. Like feeling warm and calm and that all is exactly as it should be.

That is how I feel about bringing this baby into the world. This beautiful baby who dances inside me when I sing out loud to him in the car; who gets the hiccups around 5 p.m. each day, almost like clockwork; who doesn�t like it when I try to ease him up off my bladder.

There are still so many unknowns, I know. There are still many fears that keep me up at night. And I know that even with all the best of circumstances, I will struggle at times with this new life. But beyond all that, there is you. And I cannot wait to meet you and share with you all the love that I am feeling right now for just that one little foot.

I am so grateful.

before ~ after