Instinct

A mother's instinct is hard to tame, but fear has a way of controlling it. There is a part of me that needs to run out and buy pretty little girly clothes and diapers and a dual stroller. Oh, the list goes on. But fear keeps me from doing it. How can I possibly buy something I may have to take back? Still, on the weekends, I want to go shop for baby things. I stop myself every time.

It is that same instinct that tells me I need to pack a hospital bag, but I continue putting it off. The memory of packing the bag for Gabriel's birth is fresh in my mind. So is that air of excitement. What type of music do we want him to hear as he enters our world? What can I take to occupy my time? What clothes do I want to wear? What clothes do I want for Gabriel? I turned these questions over in my mind weeks, if not months, before he was born.

I try to think of these questions for Lily, but the excitement in preparing that bag just isn't there. I don't usually have a defeatist attitude, but the question "Why bother?" sometimes enters my mind. I really know better.

This pregnancy has not been filled with reading "what to expect when you're expecting" type books, taking pictures of my growing belly, planning motifs, so I really have no recollection of what I should put in that bag. I just remember the feeling.

But here's what I know: The hopes and dreams that accompany the normal pregnancy will not be stuffed amidst the clothing, the music, and the puzzle books. This time, there will be different hopes--a chance of meeting my daughter, for her to feel our love, to leave the hospital with a baby in my arms. Oh, the list goes on.