Anxiety

It's there all the time, when I'm pregnant. I stave it off, sometimes, by immersing myself in other people's lives: books, TV, activity, conversation. But it thrums beneath the surface.

...what if something's wrong? what if I'm fooling myself? I shouldn't have smiled and told that person that everything's okay, i'm just asking for trouble... any minute, it could all go horribly wrong. just have to get to the birth. just hold on, baby. a few more weeks. what's that twinge? is this the beginning of the end? should I call the doctor? no, just wait, see if it passes, look there's a kick, everything's fine, but what if it's not? how would I know? what if my water just broke? what would I do next? I'm deluding myself, I shouldn't expect everything to be fine, that's exactly the point at which it all goes wrong....

Then the fun times when it is not beneath the surface, but washes over me. Nightmares, yes, but also waking attacks. A something, a different sensation, a negative thought or story. My skin prickles and gets hot, my face flushes, muscles tense. I am positive that Bad Things are beginning. I start to calculate my baby's chances out in the world, to figure out what to do if I need to go to the hospital Right Now. I'm nauseated and breathless and tears come to my eyes but do not overflow. Crying would be a relief, but my body and mind are too wound up in the dark spiral of "what if."

...oh my God, what if something's wrong? what if I'm fooling myself? any minute, it could all go horribly wrong. just have to get to the birth. just hold on, baby. what's that twinge? is this the beginning of the end? should I call the doctor? no, just wait, see if it passes, look there's a kick, everything's fine, but what if it's not? how would I know? I'm deluding myself, I shouldn't expect everything to be fine, that's exactly the point at which it all goes wrong....

"Call if something doesn't feel right," the doctor said kindly. She probably says that to everyone. Althought she smiled sympathetically when I told her that one of my pregnancy symptoms is high anxiety, I doubt she really understands that if I really called whenever "something doesn't feel right," the poor woman would be deluged.

Anxiety, and melancholy, seem to be natural parts of my personality, even when I'm not pregnant. Even panic attacks, though it was only years later that I recognized what they were. In pregnancy, though, everything is magnified. Anxiety walks with me every day, rather than just once in a while when I'm under stress. My rather precarious reproductive and medical histories don't help. It is difficult even for my doctor to tell me what physical symptoms would be normal or not. Because I am not normal. I have a concrete medical history of abnormalities. Relatively rare ones, at that.

...I'm sorry my womb is not the right shape, baby, can you hold on anyway? what if something's wrong? what if I'm fooling myself? any minute, it could all go horribly wrong. just have to get to the birth. just hold on, baby. what's that twinge? is this the beginning of the end? should I call the doctor? no, just wait, see if it passes, look there's a kick, everything's fine, but what if it's not? how would I know? I'm deluding myself, I shouldn't expect everything to be fine, that's exactly the point at which it all goes wrong....

Turning down the thrumming, trying to talk myself out of the anxious spiral, have side effects. I rarely "trust my gut." I wonder if anyone who deals with higher anxiety does. MY gut tells me darkness is descending, even when it's not. My gut tells me I will be exposed as weak and stupid and useless. My gut says I'm foolish to believe everything will turn out all right. I hear people refer to their instincts, their gut feeling that something is right or wrong. To function right here, right now, I must mistrust such feelings.

Sometimes I wonder how much I miss because of that...the real communications from my body, my spirit, even from my family and from God, that get lost while I hunker down and wait out the next anxiety wave. (Don't talk to me, Katrina! I'm busy obsessing over here!)

Ironically, that's my biggest fear: that in trying to control my fear, I'll miss something I really should be afraid of.

The Joy of Spring

Young Women of Character

If by the grace of God, we can raise Katrina to have the compassion and character shown by the young women in this clip, we'll be satisfied.

"Mama, I'm Nervous About the Baby"

We've been reading How to Be a Baby, by Me, the Big Sister every night this week, by Katrina's choice. We talk about both the baby to come and Katrina's birth a lot--again, mostly at Katrina's instigation. Some days she pats or kisses my (growing! fast!) tummy more than she kisses me. And at other times...

--Mama, I'm still nervous about the baby.

--What are you nervous about, sweetie?

--I don't know.

--Do you have any questions?

--No.

(pause)

--Sweetie, what do you think is going to happen when the baby comes?

--What if I get a trophy from soccer or from doing really good art, and I don't want to put it up high, because I can't see it as well up high, so I put it low, and the baby comes into my room and breaks it?

(Note that she is not currently involved in soccer or in anything art-related that would bring a prize; we have talked about signing her up for soccer in the fall if she wants to play, and about perhaps taking an art class over the summer. So any trophy is purely theoretical on her part.)

--Well, sweetie, the baby won't be doing much moving around on her own for a while. And by the time the baby can crawl or walk, we'll figure something out. Remember baby Taylor? Could she move around and break things?

--No. But what if the baby kicks me?

--I think if the baby kicks you, it wouldn't hurt, because she'll be so small. Did Taylor kick you when you held her?

--Yes.

--Did it hurt?

--(half-smile) Yes!

I laugh and tell her I don't think that's true, and we move on to other important questions, such as how the baby is going to come out and the exact day I knew that the baby was in my tummy, and how did I know that, anyway? Which, ironically, I find much easier to answer than how we will prevent the baby from invading Katrina's room and destroying all of her stuff, both the stuff she has today and imagined, future stuff. Because, really, it would be untruthful to tell her that her young sibling will never get into her belongings or break anything.

Now that spring has finally reached Germany, it is bittersweet. We're in the last month and a half of school, and "Kindergarten graduation" has appeared on the school calendar. I used to think that was a silly thing to do, but in this situation, the kids really are graduating, in the sense that they will leave this school and go on to first grade in a different school. And this year, those new schools will be scattered across the United States and Germany. It will be a true good-bye for most of the kids in Katrina's age-group.

And as we think ahead more and more to the new baby's birth, these months are a good-bye to something else--the current structure of our little family. We've gotten comfortable together these past 5, almost 6 years. Katrina has had the mixed blessing of being an only child--lots of attention, having her own space, not having to share except when friends visit, not getting as much social interaction as she'd like, not needing to learn how to compromise as often as kids with siblings, plenty of one-on-one time with mom and/or dad. Soon she will have the mixed blessing of being an older sister. I think she will probably love and hate the experience in equal measure, with the love winning out, but perhaps not for a while. The age gap will mean she will hopefully be able to understand more about the needs of a new baby and better express her own feelings so we can talk her through the inevitable jealousy and discomfort with change; but it will also mean that her new sister (or brother) will never be a true playmate. I suspect being the object of hero worship is in her future, which has to be good for any kid's self-esteem!

I find myself hugging her a little more closely and often, praying that I'll have enough emotional resources to care for both her and the baby, and just being very aware that we are on the cusp of a huge change. And, like her, thinking a lot about the start of Katrina's life, and marveling anew at the gift she has been and continues to be to us. (As well as marveling that this long-legged, sun-kissed blond, articulate creature could have come from that tiny, squalling, orange-skinned baby!)

So, anticipation, love, saying good-bye and hello in the same breath. You know something, my darling firstborn? Sometimes I'm nervous about the baby, too. But I also know that we'll treasure this new gift from God, because that's what we did with you.