By The Wannabe Mom
Sometimes our baby boy wakes up early, crying for his mama. I’ll scoop him up out of his crib and carry him back to my side of the bed. We’ll curl-up, his little face next to mine.
He fits perfectly in my arms and he loves to snuggle right into my chest. He’ll touch my face with his tiny fingers. And we’ll chat. Sweet baby babbles.
Lately he’s been kicking his little feet into my belly while we wait for Daddy’s alarm clock to ring.
This morning–my belly kicked back.
A few months ago, while I was busy with my sweet life and my sweet bread, I missed my sweet period. After a few home pregnancy tests, a few BETA blood tests and a few viability sonograms, my doctor confirmed our little surprise.
There is a baby in my belly.
A baby with a heartbeat. A baby who is moving around, kicking me now. A baby who should be here by summer.
I’ve been afraid to talk about it–and write about it. Hence my falling of the face of the blog-earth.
Three years of battling infertility. A few miscarriages. A sad, sad winter. All that made me terrified. And we all know I’m a master of defense mechanisms. So I did what I do best—I went about my happy-rookie-mom life and didn’t let myself believe it was really happening.
But this morning I felt our little baby, alive and kicking. Kicking its big brother, which makes me smile. And now—all of a sudden–I’m a believer. And I’m letting myself get a little bit excited.
I have no explanation for you. I don’t know how I managed to get–and stay pregnant–this time. I’ve been diagnosed as infertile, and a spontaneous pregnancy doesn’t change that. I’m sensitive to those women still battling the disease. And mine—the lady who adopts a baby and gets pregnant one month later–is a story I would have rolled my eyes at just a few months ago.
But it happened. For some reason. And those little kicks between siblings this morning have kick-started my excitement for what’s to come. Our baby boy is going to be a big brother. And this wannabe turned rookie-mom can hardly wait.