The 7 Stages of Pregnancy with Twins (Stage 4)

Now, as I was saying...

4) ANXIETY/DEPRESSION
Fear quickly gives way to anxiety...and anxiety, when it festers long enough, gives way to depression.  Call it pregnancy hormones or call it just my natural state of being prone to such emotions, but this phase was the worst and lasted through my entire 2nd trimester and then some (and, honestly, still rears its ugly head from time to time).  My anxiety involves a lot of ruminating/obsessing, a lot of list-writing to make sense of my world and attempt to regain control, and many sleepless nights.

I was anxious about all the normal things you would imagine.  

Newborn stuff.  Now that I am a mother, I know how hard having a newborn is.  I remember with great clarity saying to Jared DAILY in our first several weeks as parents, "How do people do this with multiples?!"  I guess this is God's way of being funny.  So, naturally, I was (and still am) anxious about the hard work, sleepless nights, scheduling, etc.

Money, money, money.  We'll have no choice but to live off one income for at least 6 months before we can get it together enough for me to go back to part-time work.  How's health insurance going to look with a family of 5?  How much do we budget monthly for baby essentials, like diapers, wipes, formula (since I'll be both breast-feeding and formula feeding so I don't go insane)?  What will we do about our cars?  And...down the road...3 college savings funds?  3 kids to provide for?  A family of 5 eating out and/or going on vacation?  Life just got a lot more pricey.

Recovery.  I will have a C-section.  Which means no trips up and down the stairs, no driving, no picking up 2 babies at once (or Dakota, for that matter), etc.  I have wrinkles in my brain and forehead trying to figure out the logistics of taking care of 3 children, myself, and my home without compromising my health.  I have friends and family who are PUMPED about helping, don't get me wrong.  I just hate not being able to do things for myself or feel in control of my household.  Hmmm...control seems to be a real issue in my life.

But then, there are the things I excessively worried about that maybe you wouldn't imagine.

Can I love these babies as much as I love Dakota?  I have a friend who, when she was pregnant with her second child 4 years ago, told me she was terrified that she wasn't going to love this child as much as she loved her first.  I acted like I understood, but really I was thinking, "That is the craziest thing I've ever heard."  I wasn't a parent.  I didn't understand that kind of love....yet.  Now I do, and I get it.  I freakin' love my daughter more than life itself and even cry about loving her so much.  The love is unmatched by any.  All I could keep thinking was that I was sacrificing my special bond with Dakota and would now have to split my attention amongst 3 children.  I couldn't yet picture these new babies having faces & personalities...all I felt when I thought about them was hard work.  And all my undivided Dakota attention (at the park, library, museums, cuddling watching movies, breakfast dates, etc.) would now have to put aside for diapering, feeding, and calming two screaming babies...because, for some reason, I just picture there being constant crying.  And not just from the babies. 

Am I mom enough to do this?  I do not want to turn into one of those frazzled, screaming, unkempt mothers who bit off more than they can chew in the kid department.  You all know that mom...you see her at Target or the grocery store.  She's either yelling at their kids or straight-up ignoring their insane behavoir.  It's like she's just given up on being a normal, functioning human.  You judge her.  So do I.  Is my patience going to fly out the window?  Will I wear yoga pants every day for a year?  Will I ever blow dry my hair or apply eyeliner again?

So, when my anxiety lasts long enough, I start to get mopey and sad because I can't stop thinking.  This leads to my infamous kitchen moment several weeks ago when, unable to open a block of Cracker Barrel cheese, I ended up hurling the cheese block into the kitchen and crumpling into a sobbing mess.  Luckily, my husband was there to pick up the pieces...and remind me for the millionth time to "Just stop giving a crap."  How nice to be able to live like that.  His "pregnancy stages" would be much different from mine: 1) "Shock" - 1 day; 2) "Fear" - 2 or 3 hours; 3) "Let's not give a crap and let's just do this" - the rest of pregnancy.

I'm happy to say that I am now sleeping and have more or less moved past stage 4.  This post is becoming self-indulgently long, so I shall continue with stages 5-7 this weekend.  'Til then.