There is something so markedly different about the experience of being pregnant with my second child from my experience being pregnant with William. The newness and excitement is still there but it’s more present in the form of preparing myself and my mind for those first hard months (I would say weeks but it was months in my experience with William) of exhaustion, cascading emotions and an overwhelming fear/need/anxiety to protect this little being that still feels to be such a part of me.
There were no words anyone could have said to prepare me for how I would feel after William came into our lives. Even now there are days where when I’m at work or in the car and when I think of William I find myself tearing up. My love for him and my Mama Bear instincts for him are so strong that sometimes I feel like it’s just too much feeling to harness. I thought I understood love in the way that I understood my relationship with Brandon, and the way our love grew and changed as it matured into a commitment to love for and care for each other the remainder of our days. Alas, I did not. This love that I have learned and am still learning that I have for William is off the charts. It comes with no conditions, no pretenses, no judgments. It’s only something that could have come from above.
Now that I’m a mother I think that if I had to tell someone who was expecting just one thing it would be that if you didn’t believe in a God, or some force of energy greater than you and me, that the moment that baby is put into your arms you will change your mind. That’s the only way I can explain it.