December 4, 2006 | Mama Smith

thoughts on #2 with 10 weeks to go

A few of you have emailed me, inquiring why I haven’t written much about my thoughts on baby #2 arriving here in a couple months and what pregnancy has been like this go round. It made me wonder to myself why the topic has been sidestepped.

I don’t think I’m necessarily trying to avoid the topic, I just honestly haven’t really sat down and processed the fact that we’re going to have another member join our family in a little over two months from now. Functioning day to day has been the main goal through a busy, virus-filled fall. Rambling about happenings in our everyday life and the latest Brighton story is always much easier to churn out than any deep pensive musings.

But at 30 weeks, as you can tell, my body is definitely starting to feel the effects of a tiny babe becoming not so tiny, fighting for space with my ribs and bladder, and therefore causing me to suddenly realize in a new way that I am in fact pregnant again. Which recently kick-started my brain. This means a baby will be taking up residence in our house in a few short months. This means round 2 of what we never thought we’d endure with Brighton just a little over a year ago. Brain says, time to panic.

I told Matthew the other night that I was suddenly terrified that I wouldn’t be able to do that again. That I’d gotten too used to these 9 hours of sleep a night and having peace and quiet every evening starting at 6pm when B goes down for bed. That I barely have energy enough as it is to entertain and referee a toddler all day, much less trying to do so on 2 hour stretches of sleep each night.

He just laughed.

I’m the resident Preemptive Worrier in the family, can you tell?

I think in one sense all those fears are probably valid. And it is going to be a huge adjustment. And there will be times we won’t think we’ll survive. And there will be times when we’ll wonder if we were insane to think we could swing this newborn thing again so soon after Brighton’s arrival in our lives.

But the times I have been the most needy and worn out and helpless have been the times that Christ has seemed the most tangible and alive and vivid to me, that I almost think I can smell Him standing there in the room next to me. The first few insane months adjusting to life with Brighton were some of the hardest I’ve gone through. But some of the sweetest in my friendship with Christ. Matthew was worn down, I was worn down. We couldn’t lean on each other as much as we had at other points in our lives. And so we had to lean on Christ in new ways. To be the leader of our family and lifegiver to us totally-wiped-out new parents. This brought about a much deeper, sweeter intimacy with Him than I had yet to know at that point in my life.

I often want to run from these difficult things in my life. Be it a new baby, a trying friendship, an awkward person, an unresolved conflict. But these are the very places I’m forced to surrender the illusion that I can “do” life on my own and where I have to lean into the real strength and sanity that only Christ can offer.

I guess I’m just going to be enjoying these next 10 weeks as the quiet rest before a temporary storm. Not all storms are a bad thing. In the midst of the upheaval and brief period of chaos, there is also rain and therefore growth. For now I’ll enjoy the 9 hours of sleep at night, daily naps, and a full 8 hours a day of just me and B time. A time that will inevitably grow, change and be enriched with the arrival of his new little brother.

On a lighter note, I’m hoping the fact that we’ve at least been through the initial transition of becoming parents might aid us some in the arrival of #2. Was that the case for you second-timers or is that wishful thinking?

Hopefully we’ll worry less about whether or not he’s still breathing when he sleeps (how many times did I put my finger up to Brighton’s nose just to make sure air was still coming out?!) or that every noise he makes in the night does not mean he’s dying. Or that I won’t suffocate him when I carry him around in the sling. Or that it’s okay if he whimpers or even cries every now and then, especially when trying to fall asleep. Or that the small amount of spit-up on the floor is not projectile vomit. Or that he’s NOT afraid of the dark, like his mom.

Guess we’ll see come February.

Okay, this is random, but I had to add it to one of my posts. My cousin sent out this shot taken by a local photographer in their area of CA. It’s in one of the spots he recently surfed with a buddy. Yes, that is one stinkin’ huge great white. My uncle said even with sharks in the area that’s pretty big for a local! Yet they still surf every day if they can manage. I don’t think I’d dip a toe in the Pacific after that.