The Fear Of Losing You

I feel you move. A shifting sensation, then a stretch and a kick, as though you are just waking up. Some jabs here, soft punches there, like you are testing your boundaries; wondering why these walls are in your way. A few minutes of feeling you use my bladder as a trampoline before you quiet down again.

When I first felt you move a few months ago, it felt like someone was flicking me from the inside. I didn’t quite believe I was actually feeling you. Hoping with all of my might that it was, but not daring to believe that you’d gotten so big that I could feel you moving around. This whole pregnancy has been a roller coaster of trying not to think about you and plan for when you are born. After my last miscarriage and now the signs of miscarriage with you, I haven’t dared to fully love you yet. I’m scared of the pain and guilt that will come if I lose you too. I worry everyday if you will make it, if I will be able to carry you to term. It’s never far from my mind. Every time I go to the bathroom, I expect to see blood. Every ache and pain that I feel is sure to be preterm labor. I do as little as possible in the hopes that you don't come early.

Coming close after this fear is the guilt. The guilt that I haven’t allowed myself to love you fully yet. The guilt of wondering how I will manage with four; how it will mean less time for me and my plans. The worry of will I have enough love for all of you? Will I be able to bring you up in the way you deserve, as the mother you deserve? Your siblings’ love for me is unconditional, no boundaries. I feel unworthy of such a love.

But God has given you to me. You teach me everyday about love and forgiveness; you remind me of what’s most important. I feel you move inside me again, as this wave of emotion passes. I put my hand on my belly to connect with your kicking. My heart swells with love for you, a love so big that it scares me. Also in this moment, my heart overflows with thankfulness. You are safe in my womb for another day.