I’ll be 11 weeks pregnant this Friday. I look like I’m 4 months pregnant. I feel like I might not be pregnant at all, except that I’m exhausted all the time and if some one hugs me too hard I yelp from boob-pain. <\/p>\n
I’m worried a lot, but not about the obvious stuff. I’m more worried about where we’ll live, and how I’ll ever leave this baby to go back to work, and what I’ll tell her (or him) our their big brother who will always be a tiny baby. I worry about how inadequate I’ll feel after cawing about how I AM a mother, but don’t know the first thing about how to take care of a baby. I know how to do the three step hand washing system to handle a baby in the NICU. I know how to pump for breast milk for a child who will never be able to eat. I know how to hold a dying infant in my arms and enjoy the few precious moments we had together. <\/p>\n
But I don’t know how to mother a fat pink wailing newborn. <\/p>\n
When I get too worried, I think about how I never thought I’d make it this far yet here I am. There were many times over the last year where I thought there’s no way I’ll ever be able to be pregnant again, no way that I’ll even get out of bed today.<\/p>\n
Somehow I got out of bed everyday though. I smiled when I felt like lying on the ground and giving up, I made people laugh when I felt hollow and sick. And I never thought I’d be able to do that. I think in the beginning I read some books about grief, so maybe I should buy a book about babies. <\/p>\n
The problem with worrying, for me at least, is that my mind races around like a pinball machine. I can never seem to slow it down for a moment and just deal with one thing at a time. I make a lot of lists and plans, but in the end I usually find myself staring at the ceiling at two in the morning and worrying. Maybe, since I’m already writing about it, I’ll go on Amazon right now and order a baby book! <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I’ll be 11 weeks pregnant this Friday. I look like I’m 4 months pregnant. I feel like I might not be pregnant at all, except that I’m exhausted all the time and if some one hugs me too hard I yelp from boob-pain. I’m worried a lot, but not about the obvious stuff. I’m more … Continue reading “One Thing- Wednesday June 8th”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2536","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2536","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2536"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2536\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3398,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2536\/revisions\/3398"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2536"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2536"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.poorluckyme.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2536"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}