As I was up in the wee hours of the night, holding a feverish, coughing child, I felt it.
The first stirrings of movement within.
This baby has been real to me for many, many weeks. And yet, there’s something about that first fluttery feeling, the confirmation that goes beyond the heartbeat I hear at doctor’s appointments and the symptoms my body experiences.
This baby already has a unique personality in our family. During a breakfast conversation where our nine-year-old daughter asked what names we were considering, the baby was dubbed “Peanut Butter.” We have since been actually discussing the list of names out loud, which we didn’t do with any of the others.
It’s not a discussion for the world. It’s a discussion happening in my house. And the nine-year-old, in particular, is really enjoying it.
She’s the one who had this insight about the baby’s gender: “It really doesn’t matter whether it’s a boy or a girl. They’re both pains.” That, and they’re both babies, which is what she really wants.
We blame credit her, after all, for all of her siblings. Each pregnancy has come after her requests for a brother or sister and my response, “Talk to God, not to me.”
With this baby, I’m in the “over 35” club, which in some cases puts me “at risk,” and in others means that my doctor and I can hardy-har-har about the silliness of statistical misunderstandings.
It wasn’t until my third child, the last one, that I started to get a glimpse of what enjoying a baby, a toddler, a preschooler, was all about. With my first two, I was so…well, I was so new. So imperfect. So worried. With the now-three-year-old mancub, I finally caught myself stopping to glimpse and maybe even smile.
Maybe I just got over myself (sort of). I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing with this baby, but I know it’s made me a different mom than I was ten years ago, pregnant with my first.
Congratulations! What wonderful news!
Thanks, Carol Ann. It IS wonderful news. 🙂
Sarah, ever since we have had our daughter, Sarah, I have honestly thrown out the statistics about pregnancy, childbirth and the like. I most likely will have another child at or around the age of 35, but I don’t want to worry about potential risks, you know? I am nearly 34 now, and we are certainly not finished with our family, but it’s one of those lessons I learned from having a child with a surprise rare genetic condition: just trust God. 🙂
That’s a great reminder, Jeanne, and I can always use the “just trust God” school of thought. I’m great at telling OTHER PEOPLE to do that…not so great at, uh, following it myself. 🙂
I’m not so great at it, either, Sarah, but it helps when I start to go down this mental path in which I ruminate about “what if” this or that. It’s especially easy for me to do when I am carrying a little one inside of my womb. I think it’s that mommy instinct to worry, but ultimately, I have to remind myself that it’s truly in God’s hands as to what happens or doesn’t happen and when – with the baby and all of our children or otherwise. Praying for you and baby “peanut butter!” 🙂
Thanks so much, Jeannie! 🙂
Congratulations! My last pregnancy was after age 35 and yes, it appears to be a whole other ball game. My daughter has been praying for a sister for years, YEARS now (she has 4 brothers). Every night, almost without fail. It makes me feel guilty just listening to her because she is convinced Jesus will do this for her and I’m just not sure how to respond. I thought she would eventually let it go, but no, still going strong.
Amy, I prayed for a sister. And I got one…when I was 17! Seriously! So…you never know…
And hey, maybe she’ll have a niece and it will be more fun than a sister (based on what I have observed…). 🙂