Grateful

As typical as it sounds, I usually post on Social Media at least a couple of times in November each year about the things in my life in which I'm grateful. The last few years, it usually involves my husband, or the things in life that make me a stronger person, or maybe just something random that came to mind that day. But with Thanksgiving coming up and everyone posting their "grateful lists", I want to join in because I know that I have so much in my life to be grateful for. But once again, I feel hesitant to alienate my friends by posting about the baby. You see, I think the thing this year that I am most grateful for is the life growing inside of me. I'm so grateful that this baby will be with us in just under three months. It seems like it's taken so long for me to get to this point in my life; this point in my pregnancy. I'm so grateful to be where I am in my life right now.

I didn't always know that I wanted to be a mom. In typical teenager fashion, and perhaps because babysitting my cousin's small children may have scared me, I didn't think children were something I wanted for a long time. This in hindsight is kind of a silly thing because I was often in the position of being the group mom with my friends at that time, and well, I'm sure most teenagers have a hard time picturing children in their life. But as I grew up, things changed.

In my early 20's while I was in class, we were doing a meditation where we imagined our perfect futures. At the time I was an aspiring artist, so I pictured myself sitting in a sun-filled room in a house on a beach somewhere, painting on a large canvas. Even now, knowing that my art was never pursued on a professional (or even a personal level lately), that vision sounds amazing. In this dream-like state, as I was painting, I heard a giggle. I looked over, and standing beside me was a little girl, toddler aged; with short curls much like the ones I had as a toddler, and I realized in this meditative state that she was my little girl. As the teacher wrapped up the meditation, I opened my eyes, and I was crying. I wasn't sad, or even joyous; simply overcome with the emotion of what I had seen. This was when I first knew, I wanted to be a mom.

As my 20's progressed, I realized that while I wanted to be a mom, I didn't want to be a mom unless the circumstances where just so - again, in hindsight, this is a silly thought because there's never a perfect time for anything; much less children. But even though I leaned towards long-term relationships in my 20's; marriage, much less children, just didn't seem in the cards. As I left another failed long-term relationship when I was about to turn 31, I felt this great sadness because I thought that was it; children weren't going to happen for me. By the time I met someone new and built another relationship, it would be too late. I was happy to be out of the relationship, but I felt old and tired; like things were just final in a way.

Then something wonderful happened - I met the love of my life, and things moved quickly. We married two years after meeting (okay, maybe that's not quick for some, but it was for me), and then a little over two years after getting married, I got pregnant.

We had stopped try to avoid pregnancy about two years ago, and we started actually trying to conceive a year before I became pregnant. At the time, I was worried that it might not happen for us. What if I had waited too long to start trying to have kids - was I too old? Was I going to have to resolve with the idea that it just might not happen (again)? There was nothing medically wrong with us, so maybe it just wasn't in the cards.

On Mother's Day earlier this year, I was in a terrible mood. My birthday had just happened a couple of weeks earlier (a birthday in which I wasn't really up for celebrating), and I decided that maybe we needed to take a break from "trying". I could feel my period coming, and as it had every month passed that we didn't conceive, I felt like a failure. I had just turned 36, and it felt like were were running out of time. We took my husband's parents out to brunch that day, and when we got home, I broke down and cried. My heart felt so heavy. The week proceeding was even harder because my period just wasn't coming; I hated it when my period is late - especially while trying to conceive, late periods had become a norm (probably because I was stressing myself out over it), and it was heartbreaking every time because I was never pregnant.

Pro-tip because this was never explained to me - you can actually cramp early on in your pregnancy, especially when you would normally be on your period. I didn't know this. I was always told that when you're pregnant "you just know". I didn't "just know". I was so focused on the idea that it wasn't going to happen, it didn't occur to me at that very moment it was happening. Finally, days after my period should have started, I decided to take a pregnancy test. I couldn't believe my eyes. Unlike every month before, the second strip that indicates pregnancy was showing. But it was so faint, I was worried it was a fluke. I took two more tests; same results. I took a picture of the test results, and sent it to my sisters thinking the faintness of the results meant something. My oldest sister responded "You're pregnant, schedule a doctor's appointment." I immediately texted my husband with a picture of the results (which I then I had to explain because he had no idea how to interpret the test). That whole Mother's Day that I had been grief-stricken, I had actually been pregnant.

I spent the next few weeks worried out of my mind. I didn't want to get too excited. What if I lost the baby? I was so cautious about who we told at first. And it was so difficult. I wanted to shout from the rooftops, but I was too scared. Even after I reached the 12 and 16 weeks hurtles, I was too scared to buy baby things, or tell too many people - every little thing that could have potentially meant something was wrong signaled to me that I could not be completely comfortable.

Then we had the genetic testing (all clear), and later on the 2nd trimester ultrasound - on the monitor, there was my perfect (healthy) baby. I think that ultrasound is when it finally became "real". I finally accepted that the baby was growing inside of me, that everything could be alright. And what was more exciting is that we were having a girl (after being informed that my husband was the first son of the first son of the first son, I was sure that we were likely having a boy).

The past few weeks have been amazing because even as I become bigger and more exhausted, feeling the baby getting stronger and stronger, moving around more and more... she's there. She's active. She's healthy. I can feel her, I can count her kicks. I talk, and I know she can hear me. I sing to her. I giggle because sometimes her kicks tickle me. It's a wonderful feeling. My husband likes to put his hand on my belly and tell her that he loves her. When I feel her first thing in the morning, I tell her "Good Morning Baby!" and I tell her how grateful I am for her. My nightly prayers for her safety have morphed into prayers about how grateful I am for her (and yes, I still pray for her safety).

So this November, while I take stock in the things in my life in which I'm grateful, more than anything else, I'm so grateful for my baby girl. I'm so grateful that we've made it this far, and that she's healthy. I'm so grateful for the opportunity to carry her, and to feel the love inside of me grow for her each day. I love her so much already, and I'm so excited to meet her.