You know, I found out about the baby and the job so soon together. The job turned out to be the most challenging of my adult life, and I suppose on some level working non-stop around the clock has saved me a bit, because my fear about this baby almost swallowed me whole in the beginning. I think people that know me know when I am silent I am the most vulnerable, and not silent because I don’t have anything to say but because I have too much to say, and I get swallowed up in it.
I wanted so much to go straight from trying for baby to excited about baby, and I kept butting up against myself, disappointing myself because after the initial excitement I felt only fear, and I didn’t want to be the person that was finally getting what I want and still complaining about my existential crisis.
The truth is, the night we found out I cried because I was happy and I cried because I was sad. It was confirmation that my body couldn’t carry our baby. The truth is, I went straight from that to a place of such fear that I couldn’t even talk here about it. The more excited B was, the more scared I was. We have had so much disappointment, I thought, that if she changed her mind or something else happened, we couldn’t survive it. I am sure that I have driven everyone around me insane, because all that my brain could do was process what if’s, various scenarios wherein everything went to shit.
There was a turning point, though. At the last doctor appointment it was just her and I because B couldn’t make it, and while we sat in the waiting room she said she could feel the baby move. I told her that there were a lot of things I didn’t mind missing, but that one was hard for me. She said it’s a lot like a gas pain, that I knew what it felt like but just didn’t know it. We just understood each other then, I guess. It unlocked a little bit. I asked her if I could start taking pictures of her belly, and she said: it’s your baby, of course you can. I played those words for days: your baby, your baby, your baby.
In little tiny increments, I am less afraid. I heard the heartbeat, I see the bump, I fill out the papers, I pick out paint, and I read everything. It seems like a luxury to worry about what formula to use, it means that I have stopped being afraid (mostly) that she will change her mind.
Along the way, there have been so many times that I have wanted to share things with you guys, and as silly as it sounds, I have felt incomplete in the journey because I am not sharing it here. So if you are still out there, I am going to try and not be silent anymore.