on being scared

I'm getting real.

This blog started off as a place for me to share all about our new house and all of the DIY projects we were taking on. Since then, it’s morphed into more of a lifestyle blog and y’all have put up with my antics for the last year and a half. Most recently, it’s become a place for me to document all of the exciting milestones in pregnancy, despite my attempts at keeping it a mix of content.

Something has been on my mind recently and I just want to write it out. I don’t know if I’m looking for support, honesty, reassurance, or what…but I just want to talk about it.

I’m scared. Since we started trying to get pregnant, I’ve been scared. First I worried whether Mark or I had some genetic (or other) issue that would keep us from getting pregnant. Once that fear was calmed and we got pregnant quickly, I was then hesitant to believe that the pregnancy was real. Even after multiple pregnancy tests and blood tests proved it to be true and progressing, I couldn’t let myself believe that it was real until we saw that little babe on the ultrasound at 8 weeks. That helped a LOT. After that, though, my confidence slowly  dropped again, week after week, and it took hearing the heartbeat at week 13 to convince me again that we were having a baby. Shortly after that, the little one started kicking and I had a daily reminder that he was safe and sound in there. Now, sometimes I'll go half a day or so with no kicks and my mind goes to the worst place.

Is this motherhood? Will the worry subside at any point? We have bought clothes and toys and have a crib and lots of baby things but it’s almost like I won’t believe it until I am holding him safe in my arms. I’ve known for years that the worry and fear of being a parent and being responsible for a child will definitely affect me, but will it be this kind of frozen hesitance to believe that it could turn out okay after all?

I would generally describe myself as an optimist. I rarely ‘freak out’ when something goes wrong like car trouble or cracks in our walls, unlike my husband. In many situations, however, I find myself doing some sort of damage control with my mind. I tend to expect the worst and not get my hopes up until the event or the moment comes to light. I’m hoping that this will subside when our sweet boy is born and I hold him in my arms. At least then my worries will turn to broken arms and broken hearts…right?

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

  

Philippians 4:6-7