My friend and I try to meet up for lunch every two weeks or so with the kids, at a place that’s close to the middle of where we both live. Last week we met up for the first time in a long time, so we were talking and catching up. She’s due very soon with her third, and we hadn’t talked much about my pregnancy either.
Well I won’t put in all the boring details, but during the course of our conversation, I all of a sudden found myself saying, “I’m not worried.” And for anyone that knows me well, they know I’m a worrier. It’s in my genes (thanks Dad!) I said the words and realized I truly believed them. At that moment it hit me that I wasn’t worried about myself or these four little babies growing inside me. I KNEW they were going to be ok.
I’ve talked a lot, especially in the beginning of this pregnancy, about all the possible bad outcomes of this situation. Illness, permanent disabilities, and even death. I know all the risks, and know I’m not above all that. But that day, sitting outside a cafe, I realized that I know we are going to be alright. I will carry these babies for a good long while, at least 30 weeks, and give birth to four healthy babies. I know they will all survive, and will thrive and grow to be absolutely perfect.
I can’t tell you how wonderful a feeling that was. Not to just believe, or for it to be wishful thinking, but to KNOW that everything really will be ok. I’ve heard my husband tell me that a million times in the past four months, and now I totally am there.