When I first found out I was pregnant with Josephine, I was amazed by how each step in the process of pregnancy was like some kind of little miracle that I was privy to. The sound of her heartbeat. Her first movements. And then suddenly, miraculously, holding her in my arms. Even through the trials of it all, I was constantly amazed by the capacity of my body to facilitate life.
With this second pregnancy, you would think that that sense of wonder would have worn off. I’ve been through all of this before, right? Same old? In fact, I am still in awe of every little change in my body, the sound of baby’s heartbeat at each of our appointments, seeing her little figure on the ultrasound screen. I sit anxiously with my hand on my stomach, waiting for the smallest kick or flutter of movement. And when it comes, I breathe a tiny sigh of relief. Because even though I’ve been through this, it still feels completely magical. I feel like any second I might wake from this dream and suddenly it will all be gone.
It’s times like these that I feel this overwhelming gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to have children, when I know that so many women struggle to have babies of their own. Gratitude for a body that is capable of housing a tiny being for nine months and then of bringing it into this world. And despite all the heartburn, the nausea, the exhaustion, and anything else I might have to suffer through to have this experience…I am grateful that I am a participant in this little miracle. And I know that when I finally hold this new child in my arms, I will be no less amazed than I was when I first held Josephine.