I got the idea for this post from Melissa over at Dear Baby and thought it would be fun to go back in time and write a letter to my pregnant self as well.
2 days before Theo was born
Dear You,
You wanted this more than anything. Urges came and went and there was a scare or two along the way, but when the time came, you wanted it. BAD. It was an unsatiable desire that only a positive pregnancy test could quench. You admired pregnant ladies’ bellies and baby buggies. You swooned over teeny tiny clothes. You got insanely jealous, while feeling guilty for being jealous, every time a friend or a foe got pregnant without trying. You were even kind of jealous of your friends that got pregnant after having trouble getting pregnant. Shame on you, You! That wasn’t very nice.
Everyone you knew that had been pregnant complained about being pregnant and you wanted to tell them to shut up, because at least they could get pregnant. But then you got pregnant, and you complained too. And you realized that it’s okay that everyone complains about being pregnant because as you’ve discovered, it’s actually really hard. It’s taxing on the body and the mind. Instead of worrying about getting pregnant, you started worrying about being a good parent. It’s just the first of many selfless things you will do for that sweet, precious boy who’s still growing inside your body. You invited a person to live inside of you who would keep you up all night, kick you in the side every 2-4 minutes, make you nautious, give you heartburn, make you fat, feel miserable a good part of the time, and make you walk like a damn duck.
But oh, honey. You have NO idea.
You still won’t sleep worth a crap. Your body will hurt in ways that it has never hurt before. You will have stitches in places you never knew could be stitched. Breastfeeding will be so painful that you’ll wish someone would just cut your boobs off with kitchen shears. Your belly will be squishy and weird for a while. You won’t be able to eat hardly anything you like because every.single.thing that tastes good makes the baby puke. You’ll still wear maternity clothes for another month (or two). (Or three). Going back to work and leaving him with a stranger will make you nautious. You will feel guilty about almost everything because you’re worried that this or that isn’t good enough or you’re not giving enough or doing enough.
But you know what, You? None of that will matter. You will be able to sleep on your belly, squishy or not, and that will feel sooooooo good. You will enjoy whatever sleep you get because you will be exhausted by the time it comes to you. Your body will heal and you will wonder if you were ever really pregnant. You will miss those baby kicks and it will be kind of hard to remember just what they felt like. You will perservere and be incredibly successful at breastfeeding. And your boobs won’t hurt forever. You will lose the baby weight, thanks to breastfeeding, and be proud of yourself and your body in a whole new way. (Because you grew a perfect little person in there and you pushed him out, just like millions of women before you have done). You will be part of a whole new club. You will understand why all your mommy friends never shut up about their kids. (Because kids ARE awesome in so many ways you will learn about later). You will figure out that sometimes that chocolate ice cream you wanted so bad was worth a little extra spit up that day. You will do your best. At the end of each day, you will think “that was a good day” because you did everything you could to be the best mom that day.
Your baby will eventually throw his head back and erupt with laughter at a silly noise his dad just made. And THAT will make your day. When you lay that baby boy in his crib at night, you will smell his sweet little head as you give him a kiss and at that moment, you won’t have a single trouble. And he WILL sleep through the night eventually. You will be a good mom. Maybe not always a cool mom, but any kid would be lucky to have you for a mom. Know why? Because no one in the world could possibly love a kid any more than you will love your baby. You have no clue how much you will love that boy. You will love him so much it hurts. And it hurts because you know he won’t always need you like he needs you now.
But You, don’t waste a single moment worrying about the future. Your baby is going to be awesome and you shouldn’t worry about big stuff like whether he’s going to love you this much 20 years from now. The beauty in life, you will see, is in the little things. Like those sweet-smelling forehead kisses and the first time you hear that hysterical laughter. And the first time he rolls over or reaches for you or figures out how to make that annoying toy make that annoying sound all by himself.
You’re about to see that experiencing life through a baby’s eyes is a beautiful adventure. Don’t waste it away worrying about things you can’t control. Make time for your husband, even though it doesn’t always seem like a priority. Do what feels right for you and your family and you won’t blow it. I promise.
Love,
Me
