2 years

Dear Milo,

Happy birthday, my wonderful boy! It's hard to believe you joined our world just two years ago. My, how the time has flown.

Birthday cake!

 Sometimes the world is a scary ugly place (like the incident at the Boston Marathon), but when I look at you, life makes sense. You make everything better. I never knew I could love someone with such intensity and selflessness. In fact, I never knew I could be selfless at all. But I would give you anything I have to give.

You are smart and cute and you have an amazing sense of humor for such a small person. You make me laugh all the time. Over the past two years, I have written you monthly letters to mark your milestones. Looking back through those letters and all the photos I have taken, I am so proud of you. I'm so proud to be your mom.

Swinging with Dada at The Little Gym

We threw you a big party at The Little Gym, with lots of kids and grown ups. Everyone had a good time. Your Aunt D came from Kansas to spend time with you, and you learned to call her DeeDee instead of "uncle." You showed off your letter-reading skills and let her spoil you rotten. You got lots of great presents and had some yummy cake. But I don't think birthdays mean a whole lot to you yet. You're just happy to have lots of toys to play with and new books to read. All the great clothes Aunt DeeDee got you mean more to me -- you won't have to go naked this summer.

My first glimpse of you

I often feel like the day you were born was the day my real life started, like everything before that was just practice. I spent a lot of years not knowing I wanted you. Now that you're here, I can't imagine life without you.

We have a lot of adventures to take together. I look forward to them all. Happy birthday, Milo. I love you more than words can ever express.

Love,
Mama

Week 38: T-minus 14 days

My newsletter from Fit Pregnancy doesn't have a whole lot to say this week. It does tell me, "Your pregnancy is considered full-term now, and the lanugo -- the downy hair that covered your baby's body -- is starting to disappear."

It also tells me the average newborn has a length of 21 1/2 inches and weighs 7 1/2 pounds. The weight is consistent with what my doc estimates Baby will be. We haven't talked length, but I'm pretty sure he's about 4 feet tall based on how big I am and how he can put pressure on my bladder and kick me in the ribs at the same time.

I'm also supposed to be patient:

Don't be tempted to try to induce labor with herbs or castor oil. Herbal supplements are unregulated by the FDA and can contain highly variable concentrations and unlisted ingredients that may be dangerous.

Patience isn't exactly my strong suit, but I'm not going to risk my or my baby's health. Besides, with my due date looming, I'm trying to enjoy these last couple of weeks of baby-free life. Although, with that said, life hasn't truly been baby-free for about nine months. He's always on my mind.

No turning back now

Over the weekend, I had a bit of a meltdown. Deprived of sleep and home alone for a few hours, I felt there was no way I could do this -- no way I could have a baby and raise a child. And I'm fat and my hair looks terrible and, and, and.

I know it was raging hormones and a lack of sleep. I didn't reach out to anyone because it was a Saturday morning, and who wants to talk to a blubbering pregnant lady on a sunny Saturday morning. So I wept. And I stewed. And I tried to nap. When the S.O. came home, he held me and rocked me and assured me together we would do it ... and besides, there's no turning back now. Which is what I needed to hear. I needed that reminder.

As if to reinforce that reminder, I had a dream last night in which I could see baby in my belly. He pushed his feet so hard against me that I could see them as if my skin were transparent. Seeing the perfect outline of his feet -- which were huge, by the way -- made him all the more real, even if it was just a dream.

I'm still scared, filled with my always increasing list of what-ifs, but I know that I can handle it. Sure, there will be meltdowns. There will be pain (physical and emotional). There will be fights and tantrums and sleepless nights. But there will also be a family -- a mother, a father, a son. And we will make it work.

You're getting sleepy ...

In case you didn't notice, I'm a worrier. I worry about lots of stuff. I even worry about how much I worry. (Heck, it's right there in the subtitle of this blog.) I get anxious. I get anxious that I'm too anxious. It's a vicious cycle. But I recently realized that I worry to protect myself. Somewhere in my twisted logic, I have decided that when I worry and things turn out OK, it's because I worried so much. The trick is for me to learn to accept that I'm a worrier and that just who I am.

All this came from an appointment I had yesterday. As I mentioned a while back, a friend gave me a hypnosis CD and a certificate for a session with the therapist. I finally got around to making the appointment and saw her yesterday. It was enlightening. We spent about half the session discussing what I wanted to get out of it and the other half actually doing some hypnosis. We decided that the worrying wasn't really a problem because it actually works for me. Like I said before, it may be twisted logic, but worrying protects me, so why change that.

Instead, we decided that something I needed to work on was "living in the moment," being "present" in the here and now rather than always looking at what comes next. So, instead of thinking about all the possible problems I could have during the remainder of my pregnancy, all the things that could go wrong during childbirth, all the issues that the child of an advanced-maternal-age mother could have, I need to just enjoy the pregnancy and live in the moment.

There was a time in my life I would have written that -- and hypnosis -- off as psychobabble and a bunch of hooey, but at this point in my life, I know I need to do something different -- for my own sanity. So, after a discussion about how hypnosis isn't like what you see on TV -- she can't make you act like a chicken, there's no swinging pocket watch, you don't get sleepy, very sleepy -- I got comfortable and prepared for the session.

You have to be open to hypnosis. If you don't believe in it, it won't work. As she explained it, some people are very receptive and go deep into their subconscious. Most people, however, kind of drift in and out. Which is what happened to me.

Whatever the explanation, calming music combined with her soothing voice and peaceful images definitely made me feel more relaxed -- a feeling that lasted throughout the rest of the day. She even recorded the session so I can listen to it again and again.

Being pregnant at 42 is pretty damn scary, but I'm grateful to find a way to relax (even just a little) about it all. I know being less anxious is better for me and better for the baby. But up until yesterday I couldn't think of a way to calm my nerves. I'll still worry. But I'm not going to worry so much about worrying.