when the baby kicks
There is a baby bumping inside me. It is pretty much the main part of being pregnant that I enjoy. I have a massive list of things I do not enjoy about being pregnant. When the sweet women in my ward find out I’m expecting, they are excited for me, and I feel a sort of pressure to be excited too. But usually the list of Things I Hate About Being Pregnant looms in my mind. I can’t pretend excitement; instead I try to make a joke or change the subject so that I don’t start spiraling down into that list of pregnancy whines.
Not just whines. Also fears. High risk pregnancy (I’m too old, and too fat, and my blood pressure is too high) is not so fun. The fears are real. They happened last time around, with bed rest, an early delivery, a NICU stay for my baby. And just when I’m finding some order in my home, a bit of cleaned-off counter, I will have a new baby and we will descend again into the inevitable New Baby Chaos. I can’t express how much I dread that, how stretched and pulled I know I will feel by the needs of four older children and one innocent baby.
But the baby’s kicks are the good part. He’s inside, biding his time, maybe grabbing his toes like he did on the ultrasound. This is a real person, and however unprepared we may feel, he’s going to be born, and I hope God gives me the strength and grace to enjoy him when he’s here, no matter how chaotic life will be for a while.