Last night I was having trouble sleeping, which happens from time to time. I was lying there thinking that something didn't seem quite right, but I couldnt' put my finger on what exactly. Then it hit me: I hadn't felt Jade move in a while. Now, usually my daughter is fairly quiet during the day, saving energy for the night time, when she invites several friends over for a kegger in my womb. Or at least, that's what it feels like. But last night she had been quiet all day, and was now quiet at night. If you've ever been pregnant, you probably know that the thought that your baby has not moved in a while is one which often fills you with this irrational dread that something has gone wrong. This leads to all sorts of other thoughts and pictures which go tearing through your mind, thoughts and pictures that I would rather not share because they are just too traumatizing. Anyway, I was lying there experiencing this terrifying moment, trying to tell myself that I was being silly and that she was just having a quiet day. Rationality has little place in a pregnancy, however, so this line of thought was having little effect. Enough, already, I had to try to wake her up, or I'd never be able to get to sleep. So, I began to rub my belly. Nothing on this side, nothing on that, oh wait! Is that little knobby spot a knee sticking out? Rub, rub, rub, and like a genie from a lamp, little Jade leapt awake, kicking that little leg out of my reach and rolling over, as if to say "Mom, do you mind? I was sleeping!!" Ah, much better. Now I was able to sink peacefully into my own sleep as my little one rolled and squirmed and confirmed that she was just fine afterall.
Cruel, aren't I? This sort of disruption for the sake of my own sanity will not end with her birth, either. All you mothers out there, admit it. Haven't you ever snuck over to your baby's cradle, and, upon not being able to make out any breathing or movement, nudged your little one to make sure she was alive? I certainly have. In fact, Julia is almost two, and I still do it! Many a sound sleep in this house has been interrupted by an irrationally panicked mom.
You can't really blame me, though. I mean, with all the talk of SIDS, how could I not fear for her sleeping safety? It is completely terrifying to imagine that my child could just die right there in my own house without anyone even knowing there was something wrong. *shudder*
The same fear is upon me throughout my pregnancy, too. What if something horrible happened right here, in my own womb, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it?
Motherhood is about spending every waking moment trying to keep your children safe, happy, healthy, and growing properly, all the while knowing that you really have no control at all. God, it's all in your hands. I can remove every sharp object from my house, cover every hard corner, gate every stairwell, and follow my child around incessantly, but in the end, you are the only one who can protect her. You are all I have. I am so thankful that you care about me, about my children, about our piddly little lives that mean so much to us but are, in the greater perspective, tiny and insignificant and fleeting. Thank you for the small miracle that is within me. Please protect her. And thank you for offering me a knobby little knee to rub so I can know that all is well, even if I'm not the one keeping it that way.
