Don't read this if you're pregnant. I'm serious.

Seriously. WTF.

Sitting here drinking some tea with milk and honey in it, I'm starting to feel a little bit better.

This morning started off really pleasant. Well, kind of. Joshua came to our bedroom at 7:30 after sleeping through the night in his own room and threw a pillow in my face. I don't think he meant to. He just always brings something from his room to ours, puts it on our bed and climbs in. So, that immediatly woke me up. I looked at him, he handed me his (my) soft, pink blanket and said, "mama, will you help me go back to my bedroom?" I said, "No, you don't have to, it's already morning!" I fed the dog, got dressed, made breakfast and left Joshua in the company of his cousins for Chris to watch while I went to my OB Dr. appt. Happy that Joshua would get out all of his morning energy with Katie and Emily, I had a nice relaxing drive to my appointment. When I got there, I signed in and sat down to a Child Parent magazine. I opened it up and decided to read the first article that I saw because there was a picture of a drawn woman breastfeeding her child. I thought it would be something uplifting. Then, I started reading. My chest tightened, my heart started palpitating and I felt tears stinging my eyes as my stubborn hands wouldn't listen to my mind telling them to put the freaking magazine down. That word. That unforgetable word that pulsates in my mind envelopes my heart with grief that has never been my own. The definition of fear: "A feeling of agitation and anxiety caused by the presence or imminence of danger." Danger of what? My heart breaking into a million peices and my imagined life crumbling in my hands. In an OBGYN office, this magazine had an article about a mother's beautiful yet empty birth experience. Her little girl was stillborn. That word should be banned from a pregnant woman's vocabulary and accessablility. The cord that was wrapped around her neck and arm cut off circulation and her heart stopped beating immediatly after the mother's water broke. The breastfeeding picture was put in the article because of this phrase, "My milk came in and poured out like tears for my lost child." The title of the article did not lead on that anything tragic would be told. . .it was a nice title. I thought it was okay to read. Especially in an OB's office. I should have ripped the story out so that nobody else would come across it. Anyway, after I read about the booby tears my name was called and I got to be weighed (5 pounds by the way in one month--better than the 9 pounds I gained last month). Then I was left in an empty office to wait to listen to my baby's heartbeat. The midwife walked in and she said, "Are you okay? You look. . ." Then she drooped her shoulders and made a sad face. I said, "Yes. . ." and then in one sentence I told the story above and about 3 words into it I lost it. I cried. Uncontrolable tears. I don't know where they came from, I just knew my face was wet. So, she made me hop up on the table to listen to Caylee's heart and of course it sounded like a race horse galloping. I'm measuring at 31 weeks which is perfect and she checked me because of all the braxton hicks contractions I've been having and my cervix is long, thick and closed. Mind at ease, the tears stopped and my appointment was over. As I was driving home I realized something. Something that I almost don't want Caylee to know. I was shocked to find out that I was pregnant. My mind told me that I wasn't ready for another baby and that it wasn't good timing. I didn't want to be pregnant at the time. It's not that I didn't want another baby, it just wasn't my plan for that moment. It was God's, though. So, I endured the morning sickness and the emotional and physical growing pains. I felt like less of a mother to Joshua for a while because I physically felt good for nothing. I had no energy, no motivation, and my attitude was just always negative. Then, I started feeling the baby move. It made it more real to me, I guess, but it just wasn't enough to feel any kind of connection. I didn't know how to connect with something inside me that I hadn't met. I had Joshua and the love for him was so deep that I coudn't imagine having love for another person like that. Then, I found out it was a girl. That terrified me. What was I going to do with a girl? I don't know how to be a little girl's mommy. Then she started moving a lot more and I could almost imagine what her personality might be like. But, still. . .no connection. I tried to develop some kind of connection, but I was so tired from chasing Joshua around and trying to step up and be a better mother to him. . . not to mention be a better wife to Chris and attempt a clean house that I just didn't have time to try to feel something that didn't come naturally. I was starting to get worried. I knew that I would love my child no matter what, but I just wasn't looking forward to her arrival. I had so many anxieties. "What if something's wrong with her?" "What if I can't survive the first week with a 2 year old?" "What if something goes terribly wrong during the delivery?" All this BS that I read that happens to 1 percent of the population I imagined would happen to me. I had all these anxieties yet no connection with my baby. Mostly not a connection to the reality that I am going to have another baby. I told Chris this the other day and he said, "Deanna. You have a person inside of you." That got my mind going, but it wasn't until today that it actually hit me. Today at 3 days shy of 8 months pregnant, I have come to the realization that I REALLY WANT THIS BABY. I want to hold my baby. . .cuddle with her. I want to stare into her eyes and then watch her sleep. I can't wait until she latches on for the first time to breastfeed. I want to be her mommy. Now, it's not merely something that's happening to me. I want it. I want her. I'm ready for my family to grow. So, maybe, I was meant to read that article. It was heartwrenching, but it made me realize that me not being in control can sometimes be a good thing. My midwife assured me that the whole stillbirth thing is very, very, very rare. I just need to be more optimistic. I seem to lean more towards the glass being half empty most of the time. Lately, I've been looking for things to look forward to in attempt to get myself out of this lull that I've been in. A good friend of mine told me yesterday, "I don't want to sound like I'm coming down on you, but you need to look forward to every day. . .I mean, come on. . ." I needed to hear that. She's right. So, that's my goal right now. I'm not going to look so far ahead to the future or worry about things I can't control. I'm going to put my energy into enjoying everything, and every day of my life. I can't be a light for Jesus if I'm always blowing out my own flame.