I know. That's a surprise, right?
I mean, I am totally zen on all of this pregnancy stuff and all. Ahem. Don't laugh.
I am worried to the point of being resistant to doing anything for the baby.
I am so freaked out that something might happen before this baby gets here. What if my body does something to him, too? (and here I thought I released all of that guilt over the boys) What if, what if...what if he dies before or during birth?
It can happen.
I know it can. With things going fairly well during this pregnancy, I just keep waiting for that thing, whatever it is, that is going to happen.
Because something always does.
I can't wrap my mind around the idea that something might not happen, even though that is something I so desperately want.
This desperation...this intense need for all to be okay for once has paved the way for an overwhelming fear of everything falling apart.
And that, my friends, takes me back to the fear of doing something for my little guy.
We can't even name him!
This morning I woke from a dream that the Pope laid his hand on me and told me everything is going to be okay. It was a funny dream, really, because I am not an overly religious person, and I am not even Catholic.
But when I opened my eyes, I told Is.aac about it and asked him what he thought.
I think it is all going to be okay, he said.
It was the Pope, after all. Whether you believe in the Catholic religion or not, the Pope has to carry some weight, right?
Oh, if it were just that easy!
I think I might have been reassured for a few minutes before the doubt crept back in. (Sometimes I wish I could just remove my brain for a while and get a break from all of these thoughts.)
Tomorrow I will be 37 weeks. Full term. I have 12 days until the section.
Please, please, please, let this little one make it here okay.





