One of my earliest impressions as I've looked at pregnancy, birth, the early months and the forces that drive them is the necessity of an expectant mother's building a strong, central group of trusted supporters to help carry her along her way. These supporters come in the form of family, friends, care providers, other staff, doulas, neighbors, internet forums, etc. As the weeks go on, I will introduce you to all the members of my own circle.
First and most importantly, this is Preston. The name itself seems an inadequate description; I call him Love. Obviously, I wouldn't be here in this place without him, but I'm enjoying it so much more with him, too, for all he is and does. All I have known from him is kindness, consideration, and acceptance. This man works twelve-hour weekend graves for us. His avowed plans for parenting seem borrowed from Despicable Me. He drives me to every midwife visit, opens my car door for me, gives me a kiss and then a kick in the bum. He is also great practice for life with a five-year-old.Not only that, he is my foremost assurance of safety and sanity these days, given that I am entering a personal phase of constant irrational insecurity and fear. As I feel and act more often like a little child, he is my haven. At his touch, I feel myself relaxing and finding comfort. His words give me calm, and his blatant sense of ridiculousness is always cheering. In fact, my biggest complaints are that his ever-accommodating attitude about my birth preferences makes it hard when I'm indecisive, and he spends more time and money on his appearance than I do.
I keep waiting for a certain moment to come. If'm not sure why. Undoubtedly someday it will, because we are all human. It just hasn't happened in two years. My achievement level is about 50% these days; in other words, give me two tasks and I'll forget to do one, give me just one and I'll forget half of it. I say right and mean left, and have invented the new mathematical Order of Misoperations for Inadvertently Inverse Values. I have never felt so dumb in all my life. A few weeks ago I thwarted a late night cow-chasing expedition at the critical moment while trying to both help guide and not to get myself and baby trampled by the animals suddenly charging our way. Thanks to my efforts, they plowed through a fence and joined a neighbor's herd. There was no way to find and separate them until daylight.
Finally, this would be the time it happened. Preston would be angry. I waited and wondered what it would be like to see him that way. If my own dear father had been there instead of on vacation there would have been a few or more frustrated and impatient words, some persecuting silence. Only fair, I was already chewing myself out internally in the same spirit. But this strange man I married did something that utterly confused me. He laughed it off and held my hand as we walked in the dark back to the car. Oh, it was hard to let him. I stayed quiet as we went, feeling ashamed and upset with myself, and trying to puzzle out what exactly his reaction meant for the future.
We got home afterward to find my visiting teenage sisters absent. The community dance at a nearby school had long-since ended, and they weresupposed to have walked to our apartment from there. We called their friends with no success. To complete the evening, I waited and rested at home while Preston spent an hour driving around town to find them. Fortunately, it all ended well; the girls called from home to explainwhat had happened and ask for a ride. Until they all returned, I continued to wonder and imagine what life would be like for mychildren with such a Dad. When they, like I, knew they had made a mistake and created problems, or, like my sisters, caused someconcern? There would be a little less shame, anger, mistrust, and eventually less crippling self-doubt in their lives.
The more I consider it, the more I am glad for my new, growing family, this chance to be together. I have loved the life we have shared so far, and look forward to everything ahead of us. Most of all, though, I'm impatient to see what our kids will look like! Will they get his dimples, long eyelashes, or curly hair? Will they have his open heart and humor and charm? Regardless, life is going to be fun at our house.
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PregnancyGreat Expectations