Note: Pregnancy discussed. The gushy mushy sort I wouldn't normally want to read while TTC.
After a year of tears and pain unlike any I ever experienced in my life I am amazed by the emotion that now crowds in pushing out all others: happiness. I am happy. This isn't to say I've only felt unhappiness this year. I've smiled genuine smiles and laughed from time to time. But its always been coupled with fear, with pain, with grief nestled deep within like a flower with folded petals that open only for me.
Feeling his little feet kick me, or at a quiet moment feeling the sensation of a goldfish swimming, I feel happy. A pure happy that eluded me for eleven months. I'm selfish because sometimes I will eat a sugary sweet just to feel the gentle karate chops against my womb. His physical presence reminds me he is real.
Fear still maintains a studio apartment in my head. Fear is the reason that despite being 18 weeks pregnant only a handful of people know. Fear is the reason I will turn down any thoughtful offers for a baby shower, opting instead to throw a big party to celebrate sunflower after he is safely here. Fear still hovers when I think of May, because until May 7, 2010 my baby remains a dream and a hope and a prayer. I know too much to think I'm free coasting from here on out.
But most of the time I feel peaceful. Most of the time I am happy. There are moments I might sink into mundane melancholy as I consider a messy bedroom or the writer's block that's hit me at the moment, but all he has to do is kick me. All I have to do is feel him acting like that there space is all his to do with as he pleases and every sad sensation dissipates like steam on a warm summer day.
My mom called the other day. She googled my name and found some articles I wrote, and a you tube video. She was so excited. My dad got on the phone and told me he was sending me the links. I hung up and considered their obvious pride. No one really gets that proud of you other than your parents. No one else sees your accomplishments and beams because they ring like they are their own. I understand this today. All I have to do is hear my son's heartbeat, or see him wiggle his legs on the ultrasound screen or feel a gentle kick against my side and I wonder, could I possibly love you more? Can I be any more proud?