What a trip, man.
I’m no longer counting up the weeks to my due date…that looming date that seemed so far away and filled me with so much joy and excitement. Now I’m counting down to that day and the feelings that are flooding me are pretty fucking unreal and intense.
I have 12 weeks left. 3 months. For some reason when I say 3 months I feel like I have plenty of time but when I say 12 weeks I feel like it’s tomorrow. I don’t feel remotely ready. We still have zero money for maternity leave. And although lots of people and my midwife team have all said they have stuff for baby that we’ll need, I don’t possess any of it yet so as I look around the house I feel that overwhelming reality of not being ready.
I have so much to do and on top of that the dreaded 3rd trimester fatigue has kicked in. I basically rarely sleep anymore because the baby punches my bladder and kicks my ribs every time I try to sit still or lay down. Fingers crossed I get used to the beatings soon and can just sleep through it.
On top of not having the physical things we need I’m now feeling that fear I kept hearing about. I’m not remotely afraid of labor and delivery – that excites me. The fear I feel is loss of self. The shifting. I don’t feel like I’m counting down to meeting my kid, I feel like I’m counting down to a sort of death. A death of the Julia I’ve been my entire life. A death of certain freedom. A death of certain individuality.
Yes, there are things I’m excited about being a mother. So many things. It’s something I’ve always wanted and needed to experience. But there’s no denying this fear.
I’ve always been pretty good at adapting to the curve balls life throws me and taking the bull by the horns. It seems that over the past 13 years I’ve evolved into a different version of my self in three year intervals. Every three years something would shift and I would leave the life I built up and move somewhere entirely new, entirely different, where I didn’t know anyone, and start a new life as a new Julia. Not sure why. And now it looks like this Summer I’ll be doing it again at almost exactly 3 years since I left NC to head westward. But those moves and shifts were all so different from this new one I’m entering into. This one is all encompassing for life. It’s not something I can change every three years.
So, I’m not a very pleasant person to be around these days, just ask my cat. And dog. And husband. Mostly my cat (he’s been acting out). Between the ever increasing aches and pains with my ever increasing belly and weight, lack of sleep, feeling overwhelmed with stuff to prepare for baby’s arrival, and the fear of losing who I know to become a strange new person I don’t recognize…I’m kind of a raging irritable bitch 99% of the time. I don’t want to talk to people or be touched nor do I want to touch (which is why my cat is acting out).
So, bare with me people…