Anxiety-wise, I've been pretty good during my pregnancy. There have only been two or three occasions where my anxiety escalated to full-blown meltdown. I'm also pretty sure it happened once during each trimester, so at least it wasn't all in the same week.
Moving on.
Once I had finished the basement projects, I knew it was time to do full on baby preparations. My baby showers were over, and I knew what I still needed to get before Charlie arrived. I had clothes, diapers, and blankets for days, but I still needed a crib mattress. We finally went to Target to get the mattress, in addition to one or two more sheet sets. My friend Amy had gotten us some super cute owl sheets, but one set wouldn't be enough.
After a long Saturday of cleaning the church, grocery shopping, bathing, laundry, a baptism, a temple trip, and visiting Grandpa, we set out on our mission to Target.
We needed a mattress, sheets, and under the crib storage containers.
Sam was tasked with combining the gift cards while I set out for our items. I found the mattress, but it wasn't the exact one I had wanted. Still, it would work perfectly for what we needed (infant/toddler support) and it was a few bucks cheaper. I walked over to find the sheets, and could feel the anxiety rise in my chest as I walked past car seats, strollers, pumps, and monitors. By the time I got to the sheet section of the aisle, I just wanted to get in and out so I could catch my breath.
I saw the sheets and grabbed a set that had little mountains on it (the nursery theme is a forrest), but then I got hung up on choosing a third set. Did I want hedgehogs or stars?
I have no idea why that set me off, but Sam picked the hedgehog sheets and steered me over toward the under the bed storage section. It took me a good few minutes to finally get over the panic attack, but by the time we got home I was all right.
Still, trying to understand the root of my anxiety has been a challenge lately. I think I've been able to pinpoint my fear of the pain that will accompany labor. There are so many unknown factors and a total lack of predictability, which is probably what my thoughts keep landing on to fixate.
I'm scared.
Motherhood does not scare me.
The pain of birthing my son is what scares me.
I'm so used to exercising a certain kind of strength, and the idea that I might not have it when I need to perform the hardest physical task in my life is scary.
How do moms do it?
Hindsight is probably 20/20, but I still have four weeks to go (potentially five) before I can say that.
Maybe it's time to find a different kind of strength.
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