I barely slept at all that week, even less than I normally did. The pills kept coming and I did my best to make final plans for our girl's imminent arrival. My feelings about her were so torn. On one hand I wanted to pretend like she wasn't going to be born and that the whole pregnancy had been a terrible nightmare. I was sure I would wake up any minute.
But on the other hand, I was looking froward to finally meeting her. Draper and Schneiman both felt confident that things would get better once she was born. They thought that the majority of my problems had been hormonal. Little did they know that it was largely due to the poison I swallowed on a daily basis, poison which I had grown terribly dependent on.
As I sat on her bedroom floor folding tiny little onesies and receiving blankets, I thought about what the next few weeks held in store for us. What really would take place once she was born? How would I feel about her? Would I ever be able to love her? Would I love Ethan less? How would I share the love?
I began having a reoccurring nightmare that week, which was a large reason why sleep wouldn't come. In my dream, he and I are sitting on the living room floor playing with blocks. Then I hear him say "Mommy..." in a far off way. So I look up only to see him dissolving into thin air. I yell his name and he only gets farther away until he is gone. I then look down and in my lap is a baby swaddled in a pink blanket. And then I wake up.
Schneiman said it was my fear of losing Ethan when the baby came. I was worried that she would steal my love and attention away from him. She would take his place, I suppose. It was a terrible dream and one that I couldn't shake when the light of dawn hit my face. It made me hold Ethan tighter and longer during the day because it was, after all, the only precious time I had left with him.
But on the other hand, I was looking froward to finally meeting her. Draper and Schneiman both felt confident that things would get better once she was born. They thought that the majority of my problems had been hormonal. Little did they know that it was largely due to the poison I swallowed on a daily basis, poison which I had grown terribly dependent on.
As I sat on her bedroom floor folding tiny little onesies and receiving blankets, I thought about what the next few weeks held in store for us. What really would take place once she was born? How would I feel about her? Would I ever be able to love her? Would I love Ethan less? How would I share the love?
I began having a reoccurring nightmare that week, which was a large reason why sleep wouldn't come. In my dream, he and I are sitting on the living room floor playing with blocks. Then I hear him say "Mommy..." in a far off way. So I look up only to see him dissolving into thin air. I yell his name and he only gets farther away until he is gone. I then look down and in my lap is a baby swaddled in a pink blanket. And then I wake up.
Schneiman said it was my fear of losing Ethan when the baby came. I was worried that she would steal my love and attention away from him. She would take his place, I suppose. It was a terrible dream and one that I couldn't shake when the light of dawn hit my face. It made me hold Ethan tighter and longer during the day because it was, after all, the only precious time I had left with him.
1 comment:
So, are you going to write a book or what? :)
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