I saw #2 on ultrasound today. To my pleasant surprise, it was just as exciting as it was first time around. Heart rate detected, 160 beats per minute. Measurements look good and we have a due date of 12/17/2013. At my new doctor’s office, recommended to me by my yoga mamas, I marveled at how such a little kidney bean, which was moving quite a bit on the screen, could some day turn into another Tiny Boss.
Which is just what I need. Another Tiny Boss.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful and excited and I wouldn’t trade Tiny Boss #2 for anything, even before I’ve seen his or her sweet little face. But I’m a bit “once bitten, twice shy.” Reality is finally sinking in of how much work will be involved.
The first time around when I was pregnant, I was all excitement. Just like I am when I start a new job, I plunged full steam ahead. I enrolled my husband and myself into Bradley method classes, practiced copious amounts of prenatal and Iyengar yoga, and I took long walks around the neighborhood daily. My dogs loved me.
Dear husband, on the other hand, seemed to be somewhere near denial. Until I was really popping out, I endured daily “are you sure you’re still pregnant” inquiries.
Neither of us knew what hit us after Tiny Boss arrived. Gone were the late night video game sessions that were prevalent during and before pregnancy. So were the random nights out, sleeping in on the weekends, dinners with friends and long showers. Taking the dogs on a walk is now an uncommon luxury rather than a daily habit. My dogs look at me like I’ve completely failed them.
I can’t count the number of times I’d fallen asleep feeding Tiny Boss in the early days. I swear he has someone watching over him, because there were times when out of sheer exhaustion, I would pass out cold while feeding him in my arms.
Those days were the toughest. Adjusting to parenthood, with a spouse who didn’t take much family leave and was working 12 hours a day, four times a week until Tiny Boss was over three months old. Getting used to the new lonesome that can be motherhood. Trying to figure out, according to the Dunstan method, if Tiny Boss was gassy or actually hungry.
And no matter how prepared I thought I was (okay, so I never had the nursery set up before giving birth, but other than that), when the time came, to say I was caught off guard would be a serious understatement. The Greeks had more of a heads up with that Trojan horse than I did with Tiny Boss. But somehow, we got through it all. I got through it all. To date, this has been the hardest challenge of my life.
Yes, harder than level two krav maga testing, which at the ripe old age of 25 I thought was the hardest thing I had ever done. Harder than passing the California bar exam, than growing up an only child, than growing up an only Asian child in a nearly all-white community, than surviving years of adolescent depression.
By the grace of God, and I don’t say that lightly, with the support of family and friends, Facebook, an amazing cleft team, blood, sweat and tears, we made it to today.
So this time around, I’m preparing by formally acknowledging that I really have no idea what I’m doing. I know somehow, I’ll get through it all. I can’t stop myself from doing things like reading about birth order psychology and time management for moms (as if there is such a thing), but I’m wiser enough now to know that this knowledge may be useless when the time comes.
My motto this time around: