Biological imperative
Being pregnant has significantly enhanced my appreciation of biology. Every recognition that there is a growing baby inside of me – the ultrasounds, the movements, the expanding belly – has inspired wonder. Without any training, my body instinctively knows how to create life. How incredible!
I also find fascinating the strength of my desires to protect this baby. When trying to snorkel in very choppy waters last month, my primitive brain was flooded with warnings of “danger!” No matter how much I told myself to calm down and that I knew perfectly well how to snorkel safely, I simply could not get past the concern that I was putting the baby at risk. I returned to the boat after just 15 minutes.
Today I joined Andy, my sister Caroline and nephew Rene in a trip up to the Mt. Baldy ski mountain. Almost immediately, every protective mama instinct in my body presented itself. I was nervous driving up the slick mountain for fear we could crash the car and hurt the baby. I was scared of falling off the ski lift and of not being able to jump off without doing a belly flop. And most of all, I was terrified of walking down an icy road to get to the ski lodge. Twenty-four weeks pregnant, my balance is shot and the steep hill was absurdly slick. Even if I wasn’t pregnant, I am sure I would have tumbled down the hill. There was no way I was going to risk falling down that ice and jostling the baby. I stood petrified at the top of the hill until a lodge staffer noted that it would be much safer for me to trudge down in the thick snow abutting the road. That actually worked quite well, but what stuck with me was how intensely frightened I was. As wimpy as I may have seemed, there was no way I was going to endanger this baby.
This new scaredy-cat instinct feels somewhat foreign to me. I’ve taken plenty of risks in my life and always tried to push my body as hard as I could. But not anymore. At least for now, biology rules.
I also find fascinating the strength of my desires to protect this baby. When trying to snorkel in very choppy waters last month, my primitive brain was flooded with warnings of “danger!” No matter how much I told myself to calm down and that I knew perfectly well how to snorkel safely, I simply could not get past the concern that I was putting the baby at risk. I returned to the boat after just 15 minutes.
Today I joined Andy, my sister Caroline and nephew Rene in a trip up to the Mt. Baldy ski mountain. Almost immediately, every protective mama instinct in my body presented itself. I was nervous driving up the slick mountain for fear we could crash the car and hurt the baby. I was scared of falling off the ski lift and of not being able to jump off without doing a belly flop. And most of all, I was terrified of walking down an icy road to get to the ski lodge. Twenty-four weeks pregnant, my balance is shot and the steep hill was absurdly slick. Even if I wasn’t pregnant, I am sure I would have tumbled down the hill. There was no way I was going to risk falling down that ice and jostling the baby. I stood petrified at the top of the hill until a lodge staffer noted that it would be much safer for me to trudge down in the thick snow abutting the road. That actually worked quite well, but what stuck with me was how intensely frightened I was. As wimpy as I may have seemed, there was no way I was going to endanger this baby.
This new scaredy-cat instinct feels somewhat foreign to me. I’ve taken plenty of risks in my life and always tried to push my body as hard as I could. But not anymore. At least for now, biology rules.
I was terrified on the ski lift, too. I could hardly look down. So being pregnant must have been so much worse for you. You're a trooper!
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