Nightly Cup of Actualization

Had a MW appointment tonight. I'm swelling, which looks gross, but doesn't necessarily indicate a problem, as it goes right away when I change positions or get up and move. My BP's elevated, but not seriously, and she took it during a contraction, so it wasn't exactly going to be baseline. My urine dip and Fidget looked great though, so all is well. :)

Emotionally, I've had such a rough time this pregnancy that I've been really concerned that it's inhibiting labor. So I sat down today to think about what's been bugging me.

This biggest stressor the last few months has been the Playgroup Incident. In spite of constant reassurance by those around me, I haven't quite been able to bring myself to realize that I'm okay. I'm a darn good mom, and my son is just wonderful. I've been paranoid as hell about any comments about my child's weight, height, hair color, clothing, or anything that even remotely came up as a "concern" during The Incident. I've been so worried about having two, even though I haven't wanted to admit it. If someone thinks I'm so horrible at mothering one child, how am I going to be able to deal with two of them? And what if this one's skinnier than N was? Then what am I going to do? Answer?

Simple, really--I'm going to mother my boys.

The social worker was thoroughly impressed with the care with which B and I researched the positions she considered unorthodox. She was completely satisfied with our explanations for our reasons for delaying vaccinations, and was genuinely (personally) interested in why we chose midwifery care over obstetrics. She accepted without skepticism my explanation for refusing to give N ferrous sulfate drops. She seemed impressed by our combination of allopathic and traditional medicine She had the report declaring us officially just dandy parents finished the evening she did our interview (2 days before Thanksgiving), and we haven't heard a peep out of her since.

The bottom line? N's iron levels came up because of the work I did. His weight increased because I took him to doctors until I found an answer that made sense. He is healthy, fed, and happy. My pregnancy has physically gone smoothly because I do the work and the research to make the best choices for me and my baby.

The social worker was shocked walking in the door to find a happy, obviously thriving child and family. She was expecting a child in trouble. She found a child blossoming under the loving care of his parents. She left with the words, "I love these visits. It's so nice to see a family that is doing so well."

The bottom line is that I was right. I was absolutely right. I have not at all screwed up in the raising of my child, and I will not screw up in the raising of this child.

I gave birth to N. My body, with God's grace, gave him life. I brought him into the world, and I care for him now that he's here. I will give birth to his brother as well, and will mother that child with all of the love I have.

I am powerful.

I am woman.

I am a mother.

Bring on the New One. I'm ready. :)