I can hardly believe I am on the home stretch of my second pregnancy. I truly thought this pregnancy would go on forever, but it really hasn't. I have enjoyed, even in the wee early mornings, every kick and stretch from this little guy. He'll be six pounds by Monday and knowing that if, for some reason, he were born tonight... he'd make it. He'd be ok.
Um.... what?!!!
I have been doing a lot of reflecting about what this transition will look like for me. I have blogged about it some but mostly I have felt Mary-ish, pondering it in my heart. Everyday Cohen and I go on adventures I begin to think....
Is this the last time we'll ever go to Wal Mart, the mall, on a hike... just the the two of us?
I'm comfortable with Cohen. I know him. I know when he's five seconds from a tantrum, I know his quirks, his pet peeves, his favorite Avengers star (Hulk), his humor....
His everything really.
Now this little guy enters the picture.
I'm terrified of post-partum depression again, of receiving 30+ stitches again, of a terrible labor again, of feeling hopeless again.
It's a terrible nostalgia.
I'm also feeling very protective of Cohen, his feelings and how he is going to adjust. I've only had eight months with this little guy and 5+ years with Cohen. It's hard not to feel like you're doing one a disservice by spending so much time with the other.
I've tried to release a lot of the anxiety that crawls and sits on top of my brain. Zac is so good for moments like that. He gently (sometimes more assertively) reminds me of the importance of being grateful.
One of the sweetest moments I've had with Cohen is after we were watching Star Wars. We talked about the myriad of characters, and he wanted to talk extensively about Darth Vader (the coolest). I asked him if he was a good or bad guy. He of course said BAD enthusiastically, but then in all seriousness he looked at me and said...
But mom, at the end, he remembered the good.
Hm.
I think about him saying that weekly. It was bad until he remembered the good.
