A Page From My Diary

Pregnancy is weird. It is something that I have dreamed of my entire life. I wondered what it would feel like to feel my child moving inside of me. I imagined the "glow" I would get and how people would comment on it. I thought of my rounded belly and how I would cherish it. How I would wear clothes to accentuate, not hide, my bump and that I would be in love with this growing tummy of mine.
In reality, pregnancy is hard. I wake up every morning holding my breath to feel the flutterings of my baby. Until I feel those flutterings, I know that my heart could break. If I don't feel her then she's not here anymore. I love to feel her, not because of some special bond, but because it is proof that she is alive, that I am keeping her alive and that my best is enough...for now.
I do not believe I have been privileged with the glow people talk of. In fact, I think it may be the opposite. My face is splotchy and a little dull in color.
I do not feel comfortable in my own body. Although I am relatively the same, my stomach protrudes and it is difficult for me to look at. Logically, I know. I know that it is my baby, not me. I know that the 15 pounds I have gained since getting pregnant is my baby, not me. I know that I am not fat, I am pregnant. But it doesn't matter, because when I look in the mirror or try to wear pre-maternity clothes, all I see is a fat stranger. Someone I do not know.
For most of my life I have been convinced that to have value to a man means that I have to be beautiful and to be beautiful I have to be skinny. Luckily, I married a man who proves to me everyday that my value is more than anything physical. But it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks. When I look in the mirror at the ugly skin and rotund stomach, what I see is my declining value.
This is not what I expected.
But it is worth it.
Seeing Caleb's excitement when he gets to feel her kick. Worth it.
Planning our parenting techniques, starry-eyed as only new parents can be. Worth it.
Thinking of our future and imagining it with our daughter. Worth it.
The tender moments in the doctor's office when we get to hear her heartbeat. Worth it.
The fact that Caleb tears up every time we hear it. Worth it.
The excitement I get out of her teeny little baby shoes and the thought of her wearing them. Worth it.
She is worth fighting my demons. She is worth the pain and heartache, the worry. She is worth the held breathes and the middle of the night bathroom runs. She is my baby. I love her.
She's worth it all.