I think we can all appreciate that embedded in the minds of every pregnant woman is an inherent fear. Borne out of the amazement of what our bodies are capable of, intertwined with the realisation that our bodies and how we treat them, are responsible for making sure that wondrous piece of work; a new life, arrives safely for all the world to admire.
It’s completely understandable then, given the nature of being pregnant whilst also living with a long-term condition such as Type 1 Diabetes, that fear could have the power to consume you. With a condition that doesn’t produce the same results 2 days in a row and the knowledge that maintaining a stable blood glucose, particularly in the first trimester, is important for baby’s development, fear can very much be the lead emotion. But at what point do we allow Hope the opportunity to shine?
For me, as scared as I am that one untreated high blood glucose overnight or a persistent hypo could impact my child in a way we’d never be able to prove, I am mostly filled with hope and it is this that becomes my umbrella to shield me from the inevitable moments when fear tries to drench me. I am by no means implying that it’s a simple as flicking a switch. Emotions are hard enough to manage at the best of times, but when you have someone beyond yourself to consider, it feels like it sits somewhere between a no-brainer and mission impossible. In my case, I spent a long time learning how to feel more positive about things, appreciating that what you put out there into the universe is capable of becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. And now, more than ever I seem to have a heightened awareness of how my emotions impact my physical state as much as they do my mental one, another branch of fear creeping in, another opportunity for hope to rescue me.
In my entire life, I’ve spent more years hoping I’d become a Mumma than I have fearing I wouldn’t and despite consistent concerns that it may never happen for me (Endometriosis, issues with my cycle, not finding the right man and Type 1 Diabetes) somehow that beautifully pesky dream of mine wouldn’t let me give up. I was one of those women that had set herself a “scary age”, you know the one where you say “If I haven’t achieved X by 25 then I’m giving up”? That age would arrive and I’d extend it like I was hitting a snooze button on an alarm clock. I realise now that those “life goal extensions”, were this intriguing life redirecting me towards the place I now find myself in; a place where, amongst other things I am now the Fiancée of the most incredible man, we are building a home and a life together which we will share with our child when he or she arrives in Spring 2018.
There will, without doubt, be more moments of looming fear before I hold our child in my arms and beyond, but the hope I have for the future, for the sheer joy ahead that still leaves me speechless; will embrace me in those moments and remind me that fear is OK because it will always be ultimately powered by hope.
Until next time.