wow we are almost halfway there. and I still don't know if I'm ready to be a mother! everyday, my tummy cramps up and my back aches and I think about my daughter moving inside me. every night, I dream about holding her and making her laugh and watching her grow outside of me. every second I'm worried about how to raise a child. What if I don't know how to make her stop crying? What if she doesn't love to learn? How do I share with her the importance of praying? How do I find the balance of trusting enough and trusting too much? How can I ever explain to her that she is my entire world?
The other day I was thinking about how my occupation has always been first and foremost a student. It's been great having a tiny paycheck to support myself, but those jobs never overstepped my priority as a student. and then it really hit me how much change this June is going to bring. My identity as a student is going to take second to being a mother. I will, for the first time in four years, not have an income of my own (an income which I have been soooooooooooooooooo unexplainably immensely proud of). In replacement, I will have a new full-time "job" in which I cannot threaten to quit without feeling guilty. I will not be able to "separate work from home." and I get to be a mother. a mother! I am immeasurably excited and anxious, but I am so nervous. I am so nervous to say the wrong thing, to teach the wrong thing, to be the wrong example, to encourage the wrong way. Some days I just break down because I don't know what to expect.
Also, as much as I may or may not complain about my job, I really do love it. I've been three years into these relationships with my residents and I can't imagine not seeing them every week. Last Saturday, I was giving a resident her pills, we're talking about Jeremy (as usual, because the ladies all loved him and still remember him) and she says "You look like you could be pregnant, but it's probably just the things in your pocket." (I had my phone in my jacket pocket) To which I admitted that I, yes indeed, am pregnant, and then she squeals with excitement and shock. She asks me how I'm feeling, how far along I am, if I know what I'm having yet? and I tell her. "Oh, a girl!! how does your hubby feel about that?" I tell the truth- he's thrilled, but nervous about the other boys and wants to purchase additional guns. "Oh yes! well my husband was the same way! No boy was good enough for her! Not even the King of England!" she tells me, while gulping down her pills. "................so do you two know what you're having yet?" I chuckle a little, and I tell her again. We have the conversation again a couple of times, and then I tell her I have to run. I get home from work and tell Jeremy this story, and he tells me that he saw her a couple of weeks ago at exercise (Jeremy leads a weekly exercise activity at my work), and he had already told her the same thing. Is this story by itself not sufficent enough of a reason of why I love working?
There's never a day that goes by that I don't think about how much I love my baby girl, there's not a day that goes by that I don't thank God I have her growing safely in my tummy. I am so lucky to be in such a supportive and secure position in life. I am so lucky to have a wonderful husband who loves and supports his family, who gives me blessings whenever I need them. We are so lucky we have such supportive family and friends, who already love our baby!
