What I would tell pregnant mamas…
It’s been a while since I had a new baby- my kids are 15, 7, and 5. The youngest is still a baby in my mind, but it’s been quite a spell since he kicked my ribs from the womb room.
But I can still remember vividly the feeling that accompanied me with all five of my pregnancies. (Three live births, a stillborn daughter, and a baby I miscarried.)
The vulnerability of being mere flesh and blood was shocking. Yet I was duty-bound to be a fortress for another living creature.
What if my jeans were too tight and squished it’s head? What if the seatbelt, worn to protect me, left some mark on the malleable being it lay across? Or the bacteria in god knows what passed some unseen barrier and hurt the baby, before I even knew it?
These are the things that could drive a mom crazy, if she thinks too hard about it.
But what I didn’t know, back when I was pregnant- the birth of the baby is not the end of a parent’s plotting against the pitfalls of the world.
It’s just the beginning.