Updated: Dec 6, 2020
I had a really good day today. Like… a REALLY good day.
I was chatting with a friend about how good of a day it was and why, and she told me that we should all celebrate our triumphs. And you know what? She’s right.
We should be able to openly celebrate our triumphs without feeling like it’s going be a turn off or put anyone else down. We should be able to celebrate with and be happy for each other regardless of what is going on in our own lives. Celebrating shouldn’t feel like a brag. It should feel like, well, a celebration. You know how they say, “misery loves company?” Well, triumphs should enjoy the same company, and then some.
So that is what I am going to do. I am going to celebrate this beautiful, wonderful, marvelous day that I had by sharing it with all of you. And I hope you won’t take it as bragging, because I’m truly not. I am just happy and feel like these good days and milestones are worth sharing. They are worth celebrating, dammit!
Why did I have a really good day, you ask?
I had my anatomy scan today. I had a lot of anxiety going into this appointment. I tried to pretend like I didn’t, but I was lying to myself and everyone else. Right before I left, as my father-in-law showed up to watch Addison, my anxiety skyrocketed. I’m talking heart rate through the roof and liquid butthole (you’re welcome for the imagery) to accompany it.
I hated that I had to go to another one of these important appointments by myself. I hated that Michael was missing out on seeing his daughter, again. But really, truly, and selfishly, I hated that I was going to be in that room alone again, if something wasn’t right. I hated that I wasn’t going to have someone next to me to lean on if we didn’t walk out with good news.
But I went. I put my big girl pants on (and guys, they are BIG these days, baby number two don’t play!) and I went to my appointment, running back and forth from the bathroom to the waiting room the whole time I waited to hear my name called.
And just like that. As soon as I was back, as soon as I laid eyes on my precious girl and saw a head, two arms and two wiggling legs, I began to exhale. For maybe the first time, I began to let some of the breath I’d been holding for 5 months out.
The technician started her measurements, reassuring me as she went that things were looking perfect. She told me how precious my little girl was. I have no idea if she meant it, but it made me smile regardless, as I agreed with her.
She found two feet poised perfectly with ten little toes and I lost it. I don’t know what it is about those toes, but seeing them as clear as day, I couldn’t contain the tears. I love those little toes. And for the first time this whole pregnancy, I thought about actually being able to see them and nibble on them. I allowed myself to think about the future. I allowed myself to believe there was a future.
Then, the doctor came in and confirmed everything was perfect with our little bean. I left with a photo album’s worth of pictures of her to show Michael.
I got to my car and felt the lightest I have felt in over 6 months. I exhaled. Fully. Just let it all out and let it go. For the first time, I didn’t feel like I was holding my breath, waiting for something bad to happen.
When I called Michael to tell him the good news, I could hear his excitement. Not just excitement that our daughter is healthy and continuing to grow, but excitement that I was finally feeling confident in our pregnancy.
He told me he knows how hard it is and how happy he was that I was able to get to the point where I could fully accept and be happy about my growing tummy.
But what he said next is something I will never forget.
He said, “I am so proud of you. Growing a human isn’t easy but you are doing it and killing it. I am just so proud of you for growing another perfect little girl for us.”
And my god, my heart grew about eighteen sizes and I was reminded (again) that I chose the right guy.
But guys, it doesn’t stop there.
I slipped easily back into my routine once I was home, with an extra pep in my step because of my newfound lightness. Addison and I sat on the couch together and she did the cutest thing I think I have witnessed her do, to date.
We have talked a lot about how there is a baby growing in mommy’s tummy with her. We have books that talk about being a big sister, we bought her her own baby doll to start her getting used to the idea; we are trying to do what we can to prepare her for this life-changing event, not really sure if any of it is sticking.
Addison and I have started taking showers together on occasion-it’s honestly the only way I get one during the day without having her paint my walls. When she sees my belly button poking out, she insists on playing with it. As she does, I tell her it’s poking out because there’s a baby trying to grow big and strong in there, just like she did. She’ll look at my tummy and repeat inquisitively, “baby?”
Today, as we sat on the couch together, Addison lifted my shirt to expose my belly and said as clear as day, “Hi, baby!” and began playing with my belly button. I died. AND IT DOESN’T STOP THERE…
She laid her little head down on my tummy and snuggled in real hard to snuggle her little sister.
Are you dying? Because I’m dying all over again writing this and thinking about the sweetness.
And so, that is it. That is why on August 27 in this crazy 2020 of a year, I had the very best day.
I am exhaling, I am dreaming of our future family of four, I am reveling, and I am remembering how lucky I am to have the people around me that I do.