Mourning Just "Samber"

I met Sam when I was 16. We became fast friends, and then we became best friends. We would chat endlessly on the phone when I went off to college, and we loved to spend hours on the computer "IMing" each other, getting all giddy that the other was online. I missed him so much, and there was no other guy that seemed to "get" me the way he did - so effortlessly, so naturally, so deeply. After about 2 years as best friends, we finally disclosed our true feelings for each other, admitting that when we said we loved each other, we meant it more than just as a friend. Our friends and family started calling us "Samber," a playful nickname we never really rejected.

We spent the next several years trying to figure out the best way to maintain our relationship and our friendship with many splits, breaks, and back-togethers. Through all of it, we never disrespected each other, never forgot the love and comfort we found in each other, and never fell out of love with each other. Deep down, I always knew I'd be with Sam in the end. I remember nights back in college - just knowing one day we would be married. I remember our talks about what we would name our kids. I remember looking for the right house to buy, knowing one day Sam would move in with me, and we'd share an amazing life together. I used to imagine my walk down the aisle towards him. I used to imagine having him next to me as I gave birth to our baby... knowing there was no one else I would want next to me in that difficult, scary, amazing, miraculous moment.

We were talking the other night about how all of these dreams are now a reality, and we're both feeling so blessed right now. We've said those words to each other - you know, the "Can you believe we're really having a baby together?" or the "We've been planning this for so long. What do you think those two teenagers would think?" referring to our younger selves. We've laid in bed just staring at each other, tearing up that we actually created a life that's growing inside me right then at that moment.

But, there's also a slight tinge of pain as we say goodbye to the time we have left as just Samber - just us. For about 15 years, we've invested time, energy, and emotion to just each other. We've nurtured our relationship and our friendship and have built a stable, strong bond that ties us to each other. So, it's hard to imagine that we both are going to add a tiny person into our lives that will require just as much (if not more) time, energy, and emotion on both of our parts. I know we are ADDING, not taking away, but there have been a few tearful moments when we just hug each other, recognizing our "just us" time is dwindling. Soon, we'll be so invested in this little life. We'll never lose us, and we can always have our date nights, our get-aways, our cruises and trips, but there's never going to be a time that we don't think about this baby boy. Our selfish days invested in only each other are ending, and I'm embracing the time we have left as a couple, a family of two.

I just love him. I love us. It's hard to believe that we'll be a "threesome" soon, and hopefully, we'll have more children one day. I can't wait to raise this child (and his siblings) with Sam. We're so ready for this. We're gonna make a great team. We'll spend time alone with each other - for us, and for the sake of our children. But, I want to embrace the nostalgic feeling that we're saying goodbye to those days of only dreaming about our kids. I want to be realistic, before I can't take advantage of the time, that I'm going to miss just us. We'll both have a new love soon . . . we already do! I'll have another little man in my life, so I'm giving myself plenty of time to soak up every moment when Sam's still my only love.

We have heard so many parents say things like, "I can't even remember life without my son/daughter." And, even looking back in time before my oldest nephew and niece were born, I really can't remember life without THEM, so I completely get that feeling. Knowing that, I want to remember as much as I can about those two teenagers who were best friends, completely in love, and dreaming about their futures together. I want to remember the trips they took on their own, the dates they had, the careless, selfish, silly times they enjoyed for so long before they grew up. So, as we enter the next stage of our lives, the next stage of our relationship and of our friendship, we will do so together, knowing we squeezed out every ounce of "just us" we could get!

Safe and Sound

My best friend told me that she cried when her kids were born. She says of course she was so happy to finally meet her babies, but she also cried because she knew there was nothing she could do to protect them the same way she had when they were inside her belly. My mom has said the same thing - that being pregnant is wonderful because you always know where your child is, and you have full use of your arms and hands.

As Sam and I walked around Babies 'R Us yesterday, we discussed how once this kid is born, we're fully in charge of all the little things that need to be taken care of, whereas, while I'm pregnant, there's no need to do much of anything - that my body is taking the best care of him without me having to do much at all! I don't need to cut his fingernails, take his temperature, clean his tush, worry about his healing circumcision, clean his ears, wonder if his umbilical cord is infected or not, monitor his milestones, suction snot out of his nose, wipe eye crust away, or keep his feet warm. I don't have to worry that he's crying too much or not eating enough.

While I worry about so many other things while I can't see him, I am trying to embrace the fact that this is the easiest part of being a mom - just letting nature take its course while allowing me to try to sleep as much as I can and not have to worry about all those little tasks to ensure my child is clean, fed, healthy, and comfortable. SO, I'm going to try to relax in the next 6 weeks - before all those tasks begin. . . before I start truly worrying about how much tummy time he needs, whether to give a pacifier or not, if his shoes are fitting okay, if he's watching too much TV, if he's making the right friends, did he finish his homework, where did he learn such foul language, and which college is the best one for him... ahhhh! Okay, I'm getting carried away, but you get the point. Parenting is not going to be easy - no one has ever said that it would be. In fact, everyone constantly reminds us how hard it is. I know it will be. So, don't think I'm crazy when I say that I want my baby to be late - I want to be pregnant as long as possible so I can enjoy the next 6 weeks (or longer!!) to be the least worried I'll ever be!

The Sacrifice

I'm not really sure how to start this posting of collective thoughts that Sam and I discussed last night, so I'll just dive right in. I'm not really sure if "The Sacrifice" is the best title for this posting, either, but I'll just go with it for now. Here goes:

My body. It has become NOT my own. It has been taken over by the existence and needs of my unborn child. I am completely okay with this - and I'm glad that BBJ is growing, doing what he needs to stay healthy and strong, and getting all of his needs met within the cramped space that my body will allow him. I'm also entirely grateful and pleased that my body knows just what to do to grow, stretch, nurture, provide for, and cradle BBJ.

However, I'm going to make a few comments that seem like I'm going to be complaining. I want to preface these comments with the underlying, strong statement that I'm NOT complaining. I'm simply making a social commentary (as I like to do, right?) and some observations I've made as a pregnant woman that never would have occurred to me if I weren't pregnant and, in addition, have rarely been made (if ever) by other pregnant women I have known before this time in my life. So, just give me my soapbox for a few moments to make some statements that seem like I'm complaining. I recognize that they seem that way - but, I'll say once more that I LOVE being pregnant and am more than excited, extremely gracious, and beyond appreciative for the life growing inside me.

I miss having my body to myself. I'm fully aware that I'll probably miss bring pregnant and having my baby all to myself, knowing his every move, knowing how protected he is in the safest environment he'll ever know. But, I do miss having my body to myself. My favorite part of being pregnant is feeling BBJ move around. It's a constant source of reassurance to pause for a moment and feel his turns, tumbles, and twitches. But, some days, I feel him all.the.time! I can be sitting in a meeting to which I should be very attentive, but Baby is moving so non-stop that he's tickling my ribs or pushing my sides, and then I start to wonder if anyone else is seeing the acrobatics under my shirt. I will continue to feel my belly contort into weird shapes or become lopsided, and this makes concentrating a little difficult. I also worry about how my movements affect him and the rest of my body: feeling like I shouldn't run, get up too fast, jump, bend at the waist, bear down, lift anything too heavy, trip, etc.

My body is doing weird things these days. The waddle is in full swing. This is involuntary, and if you have ever been educated on pregnancy, this is not something I can help really. From a shifting pelvis to joints becoming looser, it's an inevitability that all pregnant women typically face. From constant restroom visits due to pressure on the bladder to larger "ladies" that are ready to feed my baby, my body is just different. My feet are beginning to swell, especially at the end of a long work day, and the heartburn has never been nice to me. I have to say, though, that I'm not experiencing (at least yet) the many other symptoms that so many of my pregnant (or previously pregnant) friends have reported. I sleep great (minus the get-up-and-pee every 2 hours that disrupts a perfect slumber), I have lots of energy, I have very few headaches, my weight gain has been slow and steady, I haven't gotten any stretch marks (keep your fingers crossed, please!!), and I still have an "innie." I know any and all of this can change at any minute, so I'm enjoying it while I can!

But, the overwhelming part of this whole pregnancy is the triumphant ending it will have. I'm not scared about having a baby; I'm thrilled! I'm not nervous about taking care of him; I've had lots of practice with much-younger siblings, daycare work, babysitting, nieces, nephews, and just being around kids all my life. What I am starting to get a little anxious about is the labor and delivery part of this pregnant thing. I think because of this anxiety, I start to get a little annoyed that I'm the one that has to do all of this work. Sam and I have had many conversations about this, especially as we have started our childbirth classes.

It's an anxiety that he can't really help me with. It's a feeling that's hard to describe without sounding like I'm resentful or upset about having to be the one to endure the pain and discomforts. Ask Sam and he'll tell you that I haven't really minded or complained about so many of the symptoms pregnancy has brought on. I've been mostly "okay" with the nausea, vomiting, fatigue, breast tenderness, swelling, weight gain, heartburn, Braxton Hicks, itchy belly, peeing, etc. I've been fine with all the doctor's appointments, tests, weigh-ins, blood work, etc. I've even been pretty even-tempered and have rarely had any hormonally-induced emotional outbursts. He would tell you that I'm the same pregnant as I was pre-pregnant. I've also handled the responsibility of keeping track of how active Baby is - knowing it's solely MY job to know if he's okay in there.

So, going through all of these changes, I've been fine. But, as I look towards the coming weeks and inevitable birth of this baby, I'm getting a little more panicked, and I'm feeling a little frustrated at what's coming. And, it's not just the pain of labor or of pushing something the size of a watermelon out of the size of a lemon (to be trite), it's the fear of no privacy and everyone staring at me, it's that I will have to recover, it's that I will be someone's buffet for the next X number of months.

Men around me have told me, "I think you're really over-thinking this!" which really pisses me off. Because, they have never had to consider the idea of labor and delivery and it's aftermath as a reality for themselves. Sure, they can say, "I'm glad I don't have to deal with that!" or "Yeah, that sucks!" But they never really take on what that might be like - to be spread-eagle in front of a team of numerous people pushing something out of their body that will, within the same hour, begin munching on a tender part of your body.

There have been times when Sam has told me that he is jealous of me - that I get to feel BBJ all day, that I'm with him all the time, that I am bonding with him in a way that he can't right now. And, there are times when I feel badly that he can't get that experience. I wish he could. I also wish, however, that he could fully be aware of how terrifying the idea of labor and delivery is for me. He gets it, but there's really nothing he can do to take that fear & anxiety away. He'll be a great coach, and he's a great listener. But, it's just not the same as being freaked out like I am. We both worry about the baby, we both worry about me, we both have anxieties about what parenting is going to be like with sleepless nights and a changing lifestyle, we worry about finances and managing a family of three, and we both worry about what choices we make for our son. But, we SHARE those fears and empathize with each others' fears. What Sam can't truly help me with is the "sacrifice" my body has had to make so far and the "sacrifice" it is going to keep making for this baby - and any future children.

I know all you moms out there will tell me it's not a "sacrifice," or that if it is, that it's well worth it. And, I KNOW it will be - it already is well worth it. We love this boy so much already! But, it's at least worth mentioning in a long post like this, where we are all just being honest, that being pregnant is hard, being a mother is hard work, and our bodies will never be quite the same. It's worth mentioning that and being honest about our fears, our frustrations, and our loneliness in these feelings. Once I talk to other moms about this, they usually agree with me that it's an overwhelming feeling of being alone in this fear - a fear that their husbands can only try to imagine. No one knows how a labor and delivery will go - it's different for every woman, and it's different with every baby born to that woman. It's a fear of the unknown, the fear of something you've never experienced before. I'm excited about meeting my son; I'm excited about finally knowing how this pregnancy ends; I'm excited that I'm pregnant and that I, as a woman, have this unique, amazing opportunity! But, my body has gone through a lot - so forgive me if I'm a little overwhelmed and anxious about the finale that will be here in about 8 weeks!