To My Unborn Child: I’m Sorry I’m Just Not Ready To Love You

The other day, I jokingly made a bet with my children’s father over whether I would make it to 32 week’s or 34 week’s pregnant. It was a joke I was somehow okay with making.

He looked at me nonchalantly and said, “There is no way your going to make it past 32 weeks, we are going to have a NICU stay.”

Last night, I had a dream that I had an emergency C section at 13 weeks pregnant. I thought about it all day long not really sure why I would have this dream and then it dawned on me.

I am afraid….
I am afraid to love the baby growing inside of me.
I am afraid to accept that I am having a baby.
I am afraid to get attached to this baby.

I have excitedly made an early appointment to reveal the gender of this baby as early as possible. I told everyone I could not wait to find out what it is, but the truth is that I want it to feel real.

I want to want to be excited.
I want to want to buy things for this baby.

Having two premature children has skewed my blissful excitement with pregnancy and decided to give me no emotion at all.

Somehow I have learned that if I become numb to the whole thing, if I act like i’m not actually going to have another baby that it might not hurt as bad if this baby doesn’t survive.

I’ve recently started “showing” and every time I find a shirt that reveals the fact that I am in fact housing a child, I get angry.

Seeing it every time I look in the mirror is a constant reminder that something very well could go wrong at any given minute.

I’ve seen the walls of the NICU one to many times, and I’ve seen the walls of the PICU when the NICU just wasn’t enough to safe my child’s life.

I’ve heard the sound of a ventilator, and I’ve heard the screams of my child as he was held down to place the feeding tube that would help to feed his tiny frail body.

I wake up every night at 3 am like clock work and lay in the silence of my own anxiety wondering if this baby is still alive inside of me. I google the risk of miscarriage at 14 weeks every day wondering if my body will tell me if I have failed yet again at creating a perfect healthy baby.

The true reality is that I have two beautiful children alive right now that need me more then they need anyone else and I simply don’t know if I can come back from losing a child.

I do not know if I can love a child as much as I am so very afraid that I already love this child only to have God take it away from me as fast as he gave it to me.

For 14 weeks I have blissfully ignored the fact that there is a beautiful life growing inside of me as I stroll thru the baby aisle telling myself that I will start buying baby stuff next week, that I will get excited once I know whether it is a girl or boy.

I tell myself over and over that I will get up and clean my house and start preparing to welcome a beautiful new addition into my home yet every day my house gets just a little messier as cleaning means accepting, and accepting means being excited and I’m just not sure I am ready to do that.

To love this child would mean to love a piece of me that I might not be able to bring home with me, and that is the scariest thing I could ever imagine going thru, because I don’t think that I could come back from burying a piece of me.

To want this child would mean to be selfish because if I lose this beautiful child I don’t know if I can continue to be the mother that I need to be to the two beautiful children I already have right here in front of me!

I just don’t know that I am ready to love the child growing inside of me.

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Writer. Mother. Special Needs Advocate.❤️❤️❤️

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