Thoughts on mommy guilt

I am definitely nearing the finish line with this pregnancy. I have scheduled my c-section for February 1st, which means I have less than six weeks left. Between the two of us I don't think I will make it that far; I think Cash is going to be a January baby. I am into that third trimester hell which means a lot of the stress of pregnancy becomes finely focused. For instance, rather than stressing about a lack of sleep because getting out of a low bed is painful, I am starting to make my bed on the bedroom couch. Instead of stressing about my short-term leave details and the impact on finances, the budget is written down. I also got my suitcase down from the closet this morning. Yikes, right?

One thing I have really been struggling with is how much guilt I am feeling. When I became a mom I realized why moms wield the weapon of guilt so well: they have plenty to spare. I felt guilty that my body had to be cut open to deliver my son. I felt guilty that I couldn't feed him well enough in the beginning. I felt guilty about wanting to go back to work and then I felt guilty (oh so horribly guilty) about going back to work. And if it wasn't about being a mother I felt guilty that I had given a large chunk of my marriage up to turn my back on my husband for our son. You see, Jeff was really the one who wanted to start a family. I didn't know if I was ready because I was concerned that my love for our child would take precedence in my heart for my husband. I won't lie, it did, but that's what makes things better for Jeff and me--we know how much harder we have to work to focus on one another. I know why people break-up after having kids: they are unable to focus on their partner.

Anyway, while being pregnant with Cash I have had a whole new sense of guilt. Talking with moms I understand this guilt is normal and, like many seeming negative points of parenthood, it will pass. So here is my confession: I can't help but look at B and think how much I am about to betray him. Furthermore, I worry that I will resent Cash for any hard feelings on B's side.

And the whole thing is silly because Bradley is a kid, so resiliency is high. He is normally a patient, caring kid who loves to tickle baby toes. When I punish him, he doesn't go off and cry in the corner, he comes to me for comfort. I have never seen him sulk and his jealousy over things is usually resolved by sharing rather than flat out taking. The whole thing is silly because nearly every single person who has a sibling has been able to get over the intrusion.

So then I focus on the part where I say I am going to resent a baby. I think this because I don't know Cash the way I know his older brother; what I know about Cash can be counted on one hand. I know that he is more mellow than his brother (he is a roller, not a kicker). I know his "hours of operation" are worrisome--nothing like waking up at 3am to the wave pool that is my stomach. I know that he prefers to curl up as much as possible in my right side. But that's it. And then guilt settles in because I look back at my journal entries that I wrote to Bradley while I was pregnant and I had this kid all figured out--how the fact he would kick-a-fuss then stop cold when Jeff would put his hand on my tummy meant he was playful (and he is), how he disliked when strangers would touch my stomach (he is protective of me), and how sporty he would be with all the kicking he had going on. I feel guilty because I had B all figured out, but then again I had B all to myself and no other child to chase after.

I know how silly it is. I know that I will get to know and love Cash. I know that B will get over any resentment. I know they will be best buddies. I also know I will find other things to stress about: like developing a relationship with Cash that is as strong as mine and Bradley's, like ensuring that Bradley and I continue to have time together, like how another baby will test Jeff and my marriage, like how I will convince Jeff that despite all my concerns a third baby is a really good idea.