I'll tell you I'm sorry

I wasn't sure if I should write about this, but I think I will. Maybe getting it out there will make me feel better, even if it's something I won't want to remember months or years from now.

I'm sure most everyone knows how long it took us to get pregnant this time. We started trying when Evan was about 18 months old, and over two years later we finally gave up. Then I got pregnant. It's funny the way that works, isn't it? But I was so excited to have what we'd been hoping for, finally, to complete our family. At least, I felt like I should be thrilled--but thing is, I was really more terrified than happy.

And that feeling has never gone away. Of course there's that fear in the background, that fear that something will go wrong again. That's part of it, but I have to admit another part of it is just not being excited. I want to be excited, I really do, but I'm just not feeling it the way I felt it with Evan. Mike and I talked about it the other night--he feels the same way. I don't know if it's a "been there, done that" kind of feeling that everyone gets with the second child, or if it's something more. Maybe we're steeling ourselves in case of calamity. Maybe we're worried about handling another child, and how we're going to manage. Maybe we're so consumed with Evan that it's hard to imagine someone else in our lives. I don't know, but I know I don't like feeling this way.

I want to say that of course I realize how lucky we are. I know that both of our children are miracles, and I'm sure I'll love this baby just as much as I love Evan. I guess I just thought that after trying so long that I'd be giddy every moment once I got what I'd waited for. I keep saying I want to enjoy this pregnancy, but I don't feel like I'm really doing that. I'm not good at being pregnant, and I am constantly worried about something--I can't relax, no matter how hard I try.

I should be so thrilled, buying baby stuff and getting his room ready, looking forward to the day when I finally meet him. I should be dreaming about our new little man and celebrating this wonderful time in my life. Instead, I almost feel like it's more of a burden than a blessing, and I just hate myself for feeling this way.