The Midway Point Freak Out

I really thought it would come before this.

I mean, I know how I get. I am prone to worrying about things that I have no control of, things I have control of, and things I wish I had control of. But I really thought the major freak out would have come long before now. For crying out loud, this was a major, huge life adjustment. EVERYTHING was going to change.

I've had a while to get used to the idea of being pregnant. Four and a half long months of figuring everything out. But I think before now it was just this thing that was happening. I knew it was happening, talked about it happening, even gushed about how excited we are about it happening. But it still didn't seem real.

Perhaps because I have been bogged down with a lot of extra work responsibilities this week. I've had to go in early, work longer hours and prepare for some big changes coming. That's been stressful in itself.  I've also had some personal issues going on that I have had to figure out how to deal with, things I never imagined having to confront and emotionally I was not capable of fitting anything more into my state of mind at this time.

So it was probably inevitable that a freak out was going to occur. I was due. I was over due.

But I wasn't prepared for what would finally tip me over the edge. Something that should have exhilarated me, should have thrilled me, should have made me embrace my soon-to-be, impending role as a mother.

I felt the baby flip.

It was a clear movement. Not gas, or the need to pee. Not a cramp or pull. It was an acrobatic loop-dee-loop. A Cirque du Soleil performance in my gut. I was alone when it happened and for a second I felt utterly connected to my baby in a way I never felt before. A perfect moment of that bond I always heard so much about.

Two seconds later it sparked the freak to come raging out of me.

Because I can't be a mother. I'm not ready to be a mother.

But it's happening. It's coming whether I'm ready or not.

I may not be the perfect mother. I may not know all the answers, or any of them for that matter. I may falter and fail before finding my footing. I may have to grow along with my child and figure this thing called parenthood out as I go. There's not too much to do to prepare for the weight of this responsibility. And this baby is coming whether I feel prepared or not. Nothing to be done about that now. So I'm just going to have to try.

I am going to be a mother. A mom. But hopefully not Mommy Dearest.

Holy shit.