Tag: pregnancy anxiety

Posted in Lifestyle

I Know She’s Okay, But…

Posted on by Eryn 🐰
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I don’t know why, but the closer my due date gets, the more my brain seems determined to come up with new things to worry about.

Lately, I’ve had this lingering fear that maybe the baby will have some type of disability or that there’s something I’m supposed to be noticing that I somehow haven’t. And I know that sounds dramatic. I know there are scans, appointments, measurements, and doctors who are actually trained to look for things. I know that if there were concerns, there would probably be signs or conversations happening.

But pregnancy anxiety does not always care about what I know.

Sometimes it just shows up anyway.

For me, lately, it has been about her movements.

She moves. That isn’t the problem.

If I lay on my side and pay attention, I can count ten movements. I’ve been reassured that everything sounds normal. She is active.

She just isn’t active all the time.

And for some reason, that has gotten into my head.

I see other pregnant women talking about how their babies never stop moving. People complain about being kicked constantly, about not being able to sleep because their baby is doing gymnastics at three in the morning, and sometimes I find myself wondering why my experience feels different.

Because she does move. She squirms. She kicks. She has her moments where I’m very aware that there is, in fact, a tiny person living inside of me.

But there are also stretches where she’s quieter.

And even though I’ve been told that can be normal, my brain starts doing what brains are apparently very good at: taking something that has already been explained and turning it into a completely new reason to panic.

What if she isn’t moving enough?

What if the way she moves means something?

What if I’m supposed to know the difference between normal baby movement and something that isn’t normal?

What if everyone else just somehow got a baby who is constantly doing backflips, and mine is suspiciously calm?

Then, of course, I had another thought.

Maybe we’re just on opposite sleep schedules.

Which, honestly, would be very on-brand for us right now.

My personal sleep schedule is completely fucked.

At this point, I’m usually awake from around 4 p.m. until 8 a.m., with multiple naps sprinkled throughout the day like I’m a cat who also has a severe lack of routine.

So when I actually stop and think about it, I’ve noticed something.

She seems more active when I’m up and moving around during the day.

If it’s 10 a.m. or noon and I get up, walk around, start doing something, or generally exist like a functioning human being, she starts moving.

But after 10 p.m., I’m usually in bed or on the couch. I’m barely moving. I’m scrolling on my phone, watching TV, or, if we’re being honest, watching House and pretending I don’t need to Google every medical thing that happens on the screen.

So maybe she’s asleep.

Maybe I’m awake.

Maybe we’re already working on an incredibly inconvenient mother-daughter sleep schedule.

And maybe that is all this is.

I think that’s the part of pregnancy that nobody can fully explain to you before you’re in it. There are so many things happening inside your body that you can’t actually see. You can feel her, but you can’t check on her whenever you want. You can’t ask her, “Hey, are you sleeping, or are you just being suspiciously quiet today?”

You just have to trust your body. Trust the information you’ve been given. Pay attention when something actually changes. And somehow not spiral every single time your experience doesn’t look exactly like someone else’s.

Which is easier said than done.

Especially the closer I get to meeting her.

Because I think, underneath all of these random worries, there is something much bigger happening.

I’m scared.

Not necessarily because anything is wrong.

But because soon, she’s going to be here.

She won’t just be a collection of kicks and squirms and hiccups happening inside me anymore. She’ll be an actual little person that I get to look at and hold and learn about.

And I think the closer that gets, the more my brain realizes that there is so much I can’t control.

I can’t control who she’s going to be.

I can’t control what kind of personality she’ll have.

I can’t control whether she’ll love to sleep at night or decide that 3 a.m. is the perfect time to start her day.

And I can’t spend the rest of my pregnancy analyzing every movement she makes—or doesn’t make—trying to predict an entire future from the way she squirms inside me.

So, for now, I’m trying to remind myself of what I actually know.

She moves.

I can feel her.

I’ve been reassured.

And maybe she really is just sleeping while I’m lying on the couch at midnight watching TV.

Maybe we’re on opposite schedules already.

Maybe she’s preparing me for motherhood by making sure I understand that she has her own routine and absolutely no interest in following mine.

Honestly?

That feels more likely than anything being wrong.

But if you’re pregnant too and you know what I’m talking about—the weird little worries that pop into your head even after you’ve been reassured—I think maybe that’s part of it.

Maybe motherhood starts before they’re even here.

Maybe it starts with loving someone so much that every quiet moment makes you wonder if you should be worried.

And maybe part of learning how to be her mom is learning when to listen to that instinct—and when to take a breath, put my phone down, stop overanalyzing every single squirm, and remember that she might just be sleeping.

Even if her mother absolutely is not.

Posted in Lifestyle

Becoming a Mother Has Made Me Think About My Own Parents

Posted on by Eryn 🐰
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I’ve shared a few times about my relationship with my biological dad, my relationship with my stepdad, and the fact that my biological dad and I have been estranged for a long time.

I don’t really have anything new to report on that front.

But the closer I get to becoming a mother, the more I find myself thinking about it.

And not just my relationship with my dad.

I keep thinking about my mom, too.

Because my mom actually had a very similar situation growing up, except hers was worse.

Her mother took her from California and left my grandfather behind. Then, at some point, my mom was left with aunts and uncles in Texas while my grandmother continued on to Mississippi. My mom has three other siblings, and from what I understand, pretty much everyone was dropped off at different points between California and Mississippi.

Eventually, my grandfather got his children back and gained custody.

My grandmother wasn’t really in my mom’s life for a very long time.

And as a kid, I was furious about it.

Not necessarily because my grandmother had done anything directly to me, but because I was angry for my mom.

I remember thinking, How could you do that to your own child?

Then my grandmother came back into my mom’s life when I was a teenager, and I remember still carrying that anger. I couldn’t understand how my mom could let her back in after everything.

But my mom forgave her.

And eventually, so did I.

I think I’ve always understood forgiveness as something you do for the other person, but I’m starting to understand that sometimes forgiveness is really just putting down something you’ve been carrying for way too long.

It doesn’t mean what happened was okay.

It doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

It doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences.

It just means you don’t want that hurt to own you anymore.

And now I’m pregnant.

And somehow, pregnancy has made all of those old family wounds feel a little closer to the surface.

Because suddenly I’m thinking about my mom as a teenager.

And I’m thinking about myself as a kid.

And I’m thinking about my dad.

There was a point when my mom connected really deeply with “I Just Called to Say I Love You.” She eventually sent the song to her mother because it was her way of saying, You hurt me. This is how I feel. I don’t know how else to say it.

And honestly, I wish I had done something like that.

I wish I had the courage to have sent my biological dad the song that would have said everything I couldn’t.

Because there are things I wish he knew.

I wish he understood how I felt.

I wish he knew what his absence felt like.

I wish I could have explained the parts of growing up without him that I didn’t know how to put into words at the time.

And maybe that’s why I connected so strongly with Kelly Clarkson’s original version of “Piece by Piece.”

Not the rewritten version after her divorce. The original 2015 version.

The version where she’s singing about her father and the way that experience shaped her.

At the time, I didn’t even know that Kelly Clarkson was pregnant when she sang that version on American Idol.

Now I’m sitting here pregnant myself, and that detail feels almost surreal.

Because I understand that song differently now.

I’m not just hearing it as someone’s daughter anymore.

I’m hearing it as someone’s mother.

And that’s a completely different kind of gut punch.

Because I’m about to have a daughter.

And I’m suddenly thinking about all of the things my parents did right, all of the things they did wrong, and all of the things I desperately don’t want to repeat.

I’m thinking about the kind of mother I want to be.

I’m thinking about what my daughter will remember about me.

I’m thinking about whether she’ll ever sit in her room as a teenager and wonder why I did something the way I did.

I’m thinking about whether she’ll ever be angry with me.

And honestly, I hope she is.

Not because I want to hurt her, obviously.

But because I want her to feel safe enough to tell me when I’ve hurt her.

I want her to know she can be angry with me and still be loved.

I want her to be able to tell me that I fucked up.

I want to be the kind of mother who can hear that without making her feel like she has to protect my feelings.

Because I know what it feels like to have things you don’t know how to say.

And I don’t want that for her.

At the same time, I’m not trying to stir up drama with my biological dad.

He has said that he wants to be there for the baby.

And we’ll see.

I’m not going to deny him the opportunity to have a relationship with his grandchild.

The same goes for Hector’s family. I’m not going to deny them the opportunity to know her either.

But I will say that, in both situations, I want to be present for the interactions.

I don’t trust either side enough to leave my child alone with them.

I know some people will disagree with that.

And honestly, that’s fine.

People can have whatever opinions they want about how I handle my child and my family.

But I’m not willing to gamble with my daughter’s safety or my own peace of mind just to make someone else feel comfortable.

Maybe that changes someday.

Maybe it doesn’t.

I don’t know.

And that’s the thing about becoming a mother.

I suddenly have all of these questions about the future that I can’t answer.

I don’t even know if I’m going to have another child.

Everything is expensive. Life is expensive. Babies are expensive.

And getting pregnant wasn’t exactly as simple for me as I thought it would be.

I didn’t get pregnant when I expected to.

For a while, I wondered if it was even going to happen.

And then I ended up pregnant without even knowing I was pregnant.

I wouldn’t change that for anything.

I truly believe it happened in God’s timing, even if it wasn’t my timing.

But being grateful for this pregnancy doesn’t mean it has been easy.

It hasn’t.

There have been a lot of stressful moments.

There have been health concerns.

There are things I haven’t really talked about on this blog because, frankly, they’re scary.

There are some things that become a lot more frightening when you’re not just worrying about yourself anymore.

I’ve been on bedrest.

I’ve had to deal with not being able to work the way I normally would.

I’ve had moments where I’ve been scared about what was happening with my body and what it could mean for my baby.

And I think that’s part of why all of these thoughts about my family have been coming back.

Because when you’re sitting still, literally forced to slow down and spend a lot of time inside your own head, you start thinking about things you normally keep moving past.

I’ve been thinking about my grandmother.

I’ve been thinking about my mom.

I’ve been thinking about my dad.

I’ve been thinking about the little girl I used to be.

And now I’m thinking about the little girl I’m about to meet.

It’s strange realizing that I’m carrying not only a baby, but so much family history with me.

There are things that happened before I was born that still affected me.

There are things that happened when I was a child that shaped who I became.

And now I have the opportunity to stop some of those things from continuing.

I can’t change what happened to my mom.

I can’t change what happened between my parents.

I can’t go back and send my dad a song when I was younger and say, This is what you did to me. This is how it felt.

I can’t make my childhood different.

But I can make choices now.

I can choose to communicate.

I can choose to listen.

I can choose to apologize.

I can choose to give my daughter room to have feelings that make me uncomfortable.

I can choose to love her even when she’s angry with me.

I can choose to break whatever pieces of this cycle I can.

And maybe that’s what becoming a mother is really doing to me.

It’s making me look backward at the same time I’m looking forward.

I’m grieving some things.

I’m forgiving some things.

I’m questioning some things.

And I’m realizing that I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.

But I do know one thing.

I want my daughter to grow up knowing that she was wanted.

That she was loved.

That she was safe.

And that no matter what happens in her life, she will never have to wonder whether her mother showed up for her.

Maybe I can’t change the family history I was given.

But I can decide what I hand down.

Posted in Lifestyle

36 Weeks Pregnant and Still Figuring Out Where I’m Giving Birth

Posted on by Eryn 🐰
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I’m officially 36 weeks pregnant, which means I have technically got about four weeks left… assuming this baby actually cares about my due date. Which, considering she is already her own person, who knows. She could show up tomorrow.

My hips are absolutely killing me. I feel like I’m eating constantly, but then I realize I’m really only eating like two meals a day. Mostly fruit. An absolutely unreasonable amount of fruit.

Also, my baby book didn’t even list this as “week 36.” It called it month 9, which annoyed me way more than it should have. I want my WEEK 36, thank you very much.

And as for preparing for this baby?

Hospital bag: not packed.
Nursery: lol.
Everything ready: absolutely not.
Do I even know what hospital I’m giving birth at?: NOPE.

We’re still waiting to hear back from a few apartments in California, so at this point I genuinely have no idea where this baby is going to be born.

If push comes to shove, I already told Hector that closer to my due date I may just have to go stay with him and his parents until we figure out the living situation. I genuinely did not think getting an apartment would take this long, but here we are.

We’re giving it until around September 10th to figure things out because my due date is getting very close, and by then I really need to be in California if that’s where I’m going to deliver.

Because the alternative is giving birth out here and paying completely out of pocket, and apparently childbirth likes to casually cost around $32,000 on the low end. 

The easiest solution would probably be for Hector to fly out here early in the morning—it’s literally only a 30-minute flight—rent a car, or more realistically a U-Haul van, load everything up and drive back to California.

Because an SUV barely fit everything we brought to Vegas in July, and I have acquired even MORE stuff since the baby shower. The kid isn’t even here yet and somehow she already has more shit than I do.

But honestly?

I want to stay in Vegas.

It’s cheaper. I don’t really have responsibilities here right now. I can lay in bed all day. I can eat my weight in fruit. I have my parents here. I can actually rest.

Obviously I’m not planning to live with my parents forever, but it would be a lot easier to stay here until I have some solid footing. And honestly, there are approximately one million hotels in Vegas, so finding a job out here would probably be easier too.

It really just depends on Hector and what happens with California.

And then there’s the whole hospital situation.

Our new health insurance starts in September, but because I’m not in California, I can’t actually use it here. Once I’m back in California, I can change the hospital I’m currently registered with and potentially deliver at a better hospital.

Which honestly… I WANT TO.

Because I recently looked up the hospital I’m currently registered to give birth at and apparently hospitals can have Yelp ratings??? I didn’t even know that was a thing.

It has a 1.9-star rating on Yelp.

Then I looked at the Google reviews and it has an overall 3-star rating, and some of the reviews are… concerning. People are complaining about medications not being administered properly, and there are reviews alleging that the hospital doesn’t respect HIPAA.

Now, obviously, I’m not taking random internet reviews as absolute fact, but when I’m supposed to be giving birth there in approximately FOUR WEEKS, suddenly I’m doing a lot more research than I ever thought I would.

Like, why does my hospital have Yelp reviews?!

So yes, hopefully once I’m in California and the new insurance kicks in, I can change hospitals because I would really like to feel a little more confident about where I’m going to deliver this baby.

So when people who aren’t super privy to all the details ask about the baby, I’m like:

“Yeah, my due date is really close! It’s exciting but also a little scary!”

And internally I’m like…

Ummmm actually it’s significantly more scary than exciting right now.

I am excited to meet her, obviously. But right now I’m mostly excited about one thing:

THE OPPORTUNITY TO SLEEP ON MY BACK AGAIN.

That’s it. That’s the dream.

Posted in Lifestyle

Do I Really Need a Baby Food Maker?

Posted on by Eryn 🐰
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Lately I’ve found myself going down the rabbit hole of Googling things like, “Do I actually need a baby food maker?” or “Can I just use my regular blender or food processor?”

The internet makes it seem like every single thing about parenthood requires some specialized gadget that costs $100. Every recipe I find seems to start with, “Using your baby food maker…” or “Using your immersion blender…” and I can’t help but think…

Women have been raising babies for thousands of years without any of this stuff.

Surely there has to be another way.

I’ve even started looking up older baby food recipes because they seem so much more practical.

Then I see people online saying not to bother making your own baby food because babies aren’t in the purée stage for very long anyway.

One of my friends told me she would buy a bag of frozen organic peas, cook them, blend them, portion them into small servings, and freeze them. One bag lasted her almost three months. Her advice was basically, don’t overcomplicate it.

Another friend had a similar philosophy. She said it’s important for babies to experience lots of different flavors, but that doesn’t always mean making elaborate homemade purées. Once they’re developmentally ready, they can have little tastes of things like marinara sauce, plain yogurt, mushy carrots, or mashed potatoes thinned out with a little extra liquid to make them smoother.

Then I asked my mom what she did.

Her answer?

“I just steamed vegetables and mashed them with a fork.”

No fancy appliance. No special equipment. Just a fork.

Honestly…I kind of love that answer.

The reason I’m thinking about all of this now—even though my daughter won’t be eating solids for a while—is because I like planning ahead. I don’t want to wait until she’s four or five months old and her pediatrician says, “You can start introducing solids now,” only to realize I have no idea what I’m doing.

I’d rather spend the next couple of months figuring out a simple system so that when the time comes, I already have everything I need.

Of course, this has also led to another conversation between Hector and me.

I told him that when it’s time to introduce common allergens, I want to do it while we’re parked in the emergency room parking lot.

He thinks I’m absolutely ridiculous.

His argument is that neither of us has food allergies. I have allergies to cats and latex, and Hector doesn’t have any known allergies at all.

My argument?

I’d rather feel a little silly sitting in an ER parking lot than wish I had if she ended up having a severe allergic reaction.

Current recommendations are to introduce common allergens during the first year of life instead of avoiding them. So things like peanut butter (prepared in a baby-safe way), wheat, dairy, eggs, berries, and other common foods are definitely on my list before she turns one. I’m not in a huge rush with things like soy or fish, but those will probably happen later in the first year too.

Hopefully, everything goes perfectly fine and the only thing that happens is Hector gets to tell me, “I told you so.”

Honestly…I’d be completely okay with that.

Lately I’ve found myself going down the rabbit hole of Googling things like, “Do I actually need a baby food maker?” or “Can I just use my regular blender or food processor?”

The internet makes it seem like every single thing about parenthood requires some specialized gadget that costs $100. Every recipe I find seems to start with, “Using your baby food maker…” or “Using your immersion blender…” and I can’t help but think…

Women have been raising babies for thousands of years without any of this stuff.

Surely there has to be another way.

I’ve even started looking up older baby food recipes because they seem so much more practical.

Then I see people online saying not to bother making your own baby food because babies aren’t in the purée stage for very long anyway.

One of my friends told me she would buy a bag of frozen organic peas, cook them, blend them, portion them into small servings, and freeze them. One bag lasted her almost three months. Her advice was basically, don’t overcomplicate it.

Another friend had a similar philosophy. She said it’s important for babies to experience lots of different flavors, but that doesn’t always mean making elaborate homemade purées. Once they’re developmentally ready, they can have little tastes of things like marinara sauce, plain yogurt, mushy carrots, or mashed potatoes thinned out with a little extra liquid to make them smoother.

Then I asked my mom what she did.

Her answer?

“I just steamed vegetables and mashed them with a fork.”

No fancy appliance. No special equipment. Just a fork.

Honestly…I kind of love that answer.

The reason I’m thinking about all of this now—even though my daughter won’t be eating solids for a while—is because I like planning ahead. I don’t want to wait until she’s four or five months old and her pediatrician says, “You can start introducing solids now,” only to realize I have no idea what I’m doing.

I’d rather spend the next couple of months figuring out a simple system so that when the time comes, I already have everything I need.

Of course, this has also led to another conversation between Hector and me.

I told him that when it’s time to introduce common allergens, I want to do it while we’re parked in the emergency room parking lot.

He thinks I’m absolutely ridiculous.

His argument is that neither of us has food allergies. I have allergies to cats and latex, and Hector doesn’t have any known allergies at all.

My argument?

I’d rather feel a little silly sitting in an ER parking lot than wish I had if she ended up having a severe allergic reaction.

Current recommendations are to introduce common allergens during the first year of life instead of avoiding them. So things like peanut butter (prepared in a baby-safe way), wheat, dairy, eggs, berries, and other common foods are definitely on my list before she turns one. I’m not in a huge rush with things like soy or fish, but those will probably happen later in the first year too.

Hopefully, everything goes perfectly fine and the only thing that happens is Hector gets to tell me, “I told you so.”

Honestly…I’d be completely okay with that.

Posted in Lifestyle

The Hardest Part Is Waiting

Posted on by Eryn 🐰
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I really thought that by the time I was growing a whole human and entering my seventh month of pregnancy, I’d have endless things to talk about.

Turns out… I really don’t.

A few days ago I went to a specialist for a more detailed ultrasound. They looked at the baby’s organs, brain, and everything they’re supposed to check at this stage. I’ll get the results next week, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous.

I’m sure everything is probably fine.

But if you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you know this pregnancy has come with a lot of anxiety. My brain has become incredibly talented at creating worst-case scenarios.

I even asked a few friends who have children with autism or other disabilities whether they found out during pregnancy. The overwhelming answer was no.

And before anyone misunderstands me, this isn’t about loving my child less if they’re born differently. I would love this baby with every part of me no matter what.

It’s just that you can’t really prepare for something you don’t know is coming.

And I like being prepared.

I’m the person who makes the plans—even if life laughs at those plans half the time. I like researching my options. I like knowing what could happen. I like having a game plan, even if I never have to use it.

The problem is that pregnancy doesn’t really work that way.

There’s so much waiting.

So much uncertainty.

And that’s been really hard for me.

To make matters worse, the current plan for my pregnancy is that I’m giving birth in Las Vegas. My sister mentioned that the hospital where she had both of her boys is considered a high-volume hospital. She said they reported a lot of deaths, although she wasn’t sure if that statistic was for the hospital overall or specifically Labor & Delivery.

Now, logically, I know those are two very different things.

Emotionally?

My brain immediately went, “Cool. New fear unlocked.”

So now I’m seriously considering doing the hospital tour, even though almost everyone I’ve talked to says it’s not really worth it. Maybe it won’t change anything, but I feel like seeing where I’ll be delivering would make everything feel a little less scary.

Being in Vegas without a job, without friends nearby, and without Hector here has also been harder than I expected. I have way too much time to sit with my thoughts, and that’s never been my strongest skill.

I’ve definitely fallen into a bit of a slump.

On the bright side, I picked up crocheting again. I’m making a little doll and a baby blanket for the baby.

The blanket is coming along.

The doll…

Let’s just say if it comes to life, I’m calling an exorcist.

I’m hoping to find a few more things to keep myself busy over the next couple of months. I’ve even been thinking about learning how to swim. At the very least, it would get me out of the house and give my brain something else to focus on besides Googling every weird pregnancy symptom at two in the morning.

For now, I’m just taking things one appointment, one crochet stitch, and one day at a time.

Posted in Lifestyle

I Can’t Shake the Feeling That Something Is Wrong

Posted on by Eryn 🐰
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Maybe it’s the stress of my doctors telling me I have gestational diabetes, even though almost all of my glucose readings have been normal. Or maybe it’s the stress of moving. Whatever the reason, I can’t shake this fear that something is wrong with my pregnancy or with the baby.

It’s been keeping me up at night.

Some days she’s just not very active. I know babies have quieter days—I mean, I’m the queen of lazy days—but a little while ago I went two full days without feeling her move. I ended up going to urgent care, and thankfully everything was completely normal.

I see my doctors almost every week at this point, and every ultrasound has looked good. I have another appointment with the specialist on Wednesday, so I know she’s being monitored closely. Logically, I know all of that should reassure me.

But emotionally? I still feel uneasy.

Maybe it’s because this is my first pregnancy. Maybe it’s because I’m about to be seven months pregnant, and I didn’t even know I was pregnant until April. Sometimes that makes me feel like I already failed her somehow, even though I know that’s not really fair to myself.

By most standards, this has been an easy pregnancy. Compared to what I’ve read in books and what I’ve seen other people go through online, I’ve been incredibly lucky.

So why am I so anxious?

I almost feel guilty for worrying because every doctor keeps telling me everything looks fine. But I can’t seem to turn my brain off.

The anxiety has even changed how I feel about getting ready for her.

When I finally let myself get excited, I bought a crib almost immediately. I asked one of my friends for her old baby items, and I was ready to buy a car seat before someone generously gave us one for free. We’ve also been blessed with so many other baby items already, and I’m incredibly grateful.

Our baby shower isn’t until August, and I keep seeing adorable little onesies that I want to buy.

But I don’t.

It’s like I’ve hit this wall where I’m scared to get too excited. Scared to prepare too much. Scared that if I let myself fully believe everything is okay, something will go wrong.

I don’t really know why I feel this way.

Maybe this is just another part of becoming a parent. Maybe it’s my anxiety trying to protect me from something that isn’t even happening. I honestly don’t know.

I’m hoping that as I get further along and continue hearing that everything is okay, this feeling starts to fade.

Until then, I guess all I can do is keep showing up to my appointments, trust my doctors, and remind myself that fear isn’t the same thing as intuition.

I’m trying.