When you're pregnant, you're allowed to cry whenever you want. It's like, your right as a preggo to just open the water works whenever you feel like it. Andy says I could qualify for an Oscar with some of the performances I have casted- these pregnant monologues that I script. I've been known to fall on the floor, fall dramatically into Andy's arms, or stare off into distant space, willing myself to stop the madness before it starts.
But yesterday was different...
My inlaws are down, and certain members of that party have a way of making the pregnancy all about HER. Ahem. I think she's just overly excited, and while I too am excited, I'm not excited to the extent that she is. She's belittled my feelings of anxiety, stating that, "Oh, you're always going to be worried about the baby." It's no big deal, right?
I guess the conversation that made the most impact on my meltdown yesterday, was the conversation she had on the phone with Andy a few nights before they came. We are getting rid of the guest bedroom to make room for the nursery, which means that they won't have a place to sleep at our house when they get here. We have already talked it over with my mom and dad, and they said that his parents are more than welcome to stay with them.
This isn't good enough for the MIL, evidently. And as Andy held the phone on speaker for me to hear, the conversation went like this:
"You know, I'm being selfish, but I want to stay with my baby. I don't want to stay with the Brinsers. I want to feed my baby and take care of my baby and be there every waking second for my baby. I don't want to just come visit. I'm read to move to PA as soon as we can. We were thinking about buying you a sleeper sofa. Your living room is big enough for it. And we'll sleep there, and then just put the bed back together when we're awake in the morning."
And immediately my pulse started to race. My eyes started to bug out. My heart started to race. HER BABY???!!! Oh no it's not. It is NOT your baby. It is your grandchild. Grandchild means spoil them and then GO HOME.
"When you guys go into labor, we want you to call us, any time. Day or night. And we're going to just start driving. We'll hopefully get to your house in time to see our new grandchild."
And my brain starts going...wait, they're going to be HERE when we bring the baby HOME? Oh that is not even CLOSE to what is going to happen.
Because see, in my brain, we're going to bring our baby home to this quiet home and we're going to take it up to its nursery, and show it everything we've prepared for it. And we're going to sit on our bed and just take in this miracle that God has helped us to create, and it's going to be quiet and magical. And we're going to change the first diaper together. And we're going to get up together when it cries at night, and it's going to be US and our tiny, new FAMILY. We're never going to get that moment back. We're never going to relive our first night in our first house with our first baby.
I suddenly got all these images of my MIL coming in and primping everything and prying hands reaching for the baby before mine can even get there. And breast feeding tips. And "are you doing that rights" and her cleaning my house and her getting in my business...and I...just...freaked.
I called my mom and I cried and cried. "She's going to take my baby! She's going to tell me how to do stuff! She's going to ruin our first magical night! I like to do things by myself! I like to try things and if I need help then I ask! She doesn't know me!" And my mom in all her wisdom...just listened.
And so today, after a night of MISERABLE sleep, I feel a little better. I think. Today is week 15. They will leave tomorrow. In five weeks we find out what our baby is. They won't be back until the summer. The baby is still in me, and it's all mine for now. All is well.