Mother's Day

I had a great Mother's day. It was nice and relaxed. We went and visited my mother-in-law, and I love it when we go there, because no matter how long or how short our visit is, it's always appreciated. And there's no pressure, and no guilt about when the last time we made it over there was. It makes me look forward to visits and comfortable being there. Also, I got the best Mother's Day's gifts, ever. My family seemed to know exactly what I needed. Cole got me Dove chocolates (the kind he won't touch with a ten foot pole, because they have almonds in them), Riley got me some bling (earrings and a necklace), and Jeff got me Ben and Jerry's cheesecake brownie ice cream. Yeah, Cole and Riley both ate some of it, but it's okay because I was feeling generous. Also, I picked out some maternity shirts, and Jeff unknowingly paid for them. I let him in on the fact yesterday, and told him that would be my Mother's day gift, and yet I was still surprised with Ice cream...fabulous? Definitely.
Jeff brought to my attention that this was my first Mom's day being pregnant...he also wrote in my card that I must be a really great Mom, because my babies hate to come out when it's time. Instead they like to stay in me, not coming out until the doctors have given me the proper drugs to MAKE them. Now, to be truthful, I don't know if that was supposed to be just a little poking fun at me and how much I looooove being pregnant, but he said the right thing. For some reason, that was one possible teasing statement that I needed to hear. Sometimes I get overly emotional, thinking about what is ahead. How my stomach will keep growing and growing until I can't move without being in pain. How everything I eat and drink and breath and think aren't mine anymore, but shared with this new life that's developing. Because I really believe this. Whoever this new little person is, he or she is involved with everything I do each day, and they are someone that is on my mind every second...just because I feel so many changes within myself that they are the cause of.
I'm scared. I have been terrified each time I've been pregnant. And this time isn't any different. On Tuesday I go to my second doctor's appointment. I've been neglecting this not only because of the financial issue, but because the first time I went, though I was far enough along, my doctor couldn't find the heartbeat. I listened to his explanation of this not being a big deal because of positioning, and how tiny the heart is, but I'm still terrified of what will happen when I go back. Sometimes it's just easier not knowing. What if I go and they don't hear anything again? What will I do? What will happen? I try not to focus on this stuff, but it's always there in my mind. The worst part, is that it really doesn't get better. Even if I hear the heartbeat (fingers crossed), then there's the ultrasound...is the baby the right length? Is there enough amniotic fluid? And the list goes on. It isn't until the pregnancy is actual, that you realize how many things can go so wrong, and what a miracle it is when everything goes right. Anyway, I realize that the direction of this post is slowly making a massive turn toward the "downer" side. So I'll just upload the picture I took today of my perfect family and tell you that this is obviously why I do it. When I came out of the bathroom tonight, this is what I saw. Jeff read the kids a night time story and apparently, I took too long. But do you see what I mean as far as wanting nothing to throw this off? Constantly needing to hear good news, because the possibility of endangering this is just too much to risk. Anyway, this is my world. And soon this new one will be an obvious part of it...so I just hope and pray that all goes well and everything turns out for the best. I'll let you know what happens on Tuesday. For now, I'm going back to my happy Mother's Day place...and I'm also going to go fish my Ben and Jerry's out of the freezer. And perhaps my Dove chocolates. Is it a mistake, right before bedtime, you ask? Well, obviously I am one brave mama...and I'll just have to risk it. BTW...I thought you all would like to know, Cole HATES my little floating "countdown" baby. He says, "If that's how it's gonna look, Mom, I don't wanna look". So we'll give it a few more months, and hopefully, that will improve on its physical appearance. For Cole.