I’m pregnant! Guess I better overthink everything.

No one told me immediately after I got that positive pregnancy test, I’d feel fear. The fear came so quickly following the joy, it felt like there was no joy. The joy was so fast. The joy was consumed by fear. 

The fear was so real. Fear that I’d already harmed my unborn baby. 

I had sushi three nights ago. Was that ok? Was there mercury in the raw fish I consumed? Or maybe something else bad? I better google. 

What about the laundry room I just painted? The doors were closed. The room was tiny. Was that paint safe? The fumes were strong. Too strong, I’m sure. And I googled again. 

The fear continued even after I heard heartbeat. 

Was the baby growing properly? Was I walking enough? Too much? What about lunch meat and water? Too much? Not enough? Can I lift this? Move that? Am I worrying too much? That will hurt the baby too. 

And then she moved. 

I felt her move. Or did I? How many times should she move? 

I would watch my stomach move and the worry would fade into joy. I loved being pregnant. She was safe in my stomach, I thought. But, she would be safer in my arms. When she was in my arms I could watch her breathe, every second of the day.