I started to write a post updating each of you at to where I’m at in this pregnancy and the fear that I feel leading up to its end, as well as my shortcomings as a mother to my 3 year old.
I ended up with tears streaming down my face halfway through. While this isn’t unusual for me the past few weeks, Auggie noticed that this time I was starting to sob.
He was watching TV on my phone while he ate a very late in the afternoon lunch, also not unusual lately. He stopped what he was doing immediately, offered my phone back to me in an effort to cheer me up and proceeded to ask what was wrong.
I thought about telling him that I was fine or lessening the truth, just as I would any other adult had they bothered to ask me how I was these past few weeks. but something about how genuinely he asked me made me decide to tell him the truth.
I told him that “Mommy feels like a bad mom lately. I haven’t been able to be as involved with you as I would like to be.”
To this he smiled, said “You’re a good mommy,” and wiped a tear off my check.
I went on to tell him, “Mommy’s also scared.” “Why?” he asked. “Because mommy’s about to have a baby, and I don’t know how,” I said, leaving off the “things might not go as planned” thoughts in my head. To that he responded, but ‘You’re brave!”
And with that, I knew that he’s right.
I am brave. I have overcame my anxiety before. I’ve survived pregnancy and childbirth and postpartum once before. And, I have one heck of a 3 year old to show for it.
By the grace of God, I’ll do it all again.
