Sunday, January 29, 2006

Don't Doubt D'Amy, Dang It

Today I'm going to relay something that happened this week in the most basic of terms. The details aren't important, only the outcome.

Somebody asked me to do something for them. I did. They loved it. REALLY loved it. Loved it so much that the person told other people about it. Important people. And then more the next day. Wow!

I was thrilled! Very happy that what I had done pleased somebody so much. That made me feel very good.

But talk about too much of a good thing.... the more I was praised for what I had done, the less I felt that the person requesting the task of me had any confidence that I'd do a good job in the first place. It must have been thought that I was really going to screw this up big time. But I didn't. Imagine that - I'm not as big a dope as I may appear to be.

It was kind of like this - but, granted - thankfully - to a much lesser degree when my husband and I announced I was pregnant. Again, I won't say who, but a few specific people were known to A) humor us in the "planning" stages of pregnancy/parenthood, and then B) question my physical abilities, the babies potential health problems, how I'd be able to care for an infant, etc., etc., etc. when the pregnancy announcement was finally made.

The humoring beforehand came in many forms. In "going along with" our search for a 3 bedroom home to move into - "so we could have our room, then there'd be 1 room each for the 2 kids we want to have." In not really saying much, or saying "It'll happen if it's meant to be" whenever I discussed my wanting children. And in never initiating any discussion themselves of our wanting children, even though they knew it was a priority on our list to make this happen.

Then, when we were blessed enough to finally become pregnant, most people, I confess, were simply thrilled for us and so excited for our addition to the family. But a very select few (thank goodness) did have their concerns and doubts that they weren't shy about letting us know. How was I going to physically get though a pregnancy alright? What, if any, damage could permanently be done to my body as a result of a pregnancy? What danger were we putting our unborn child in, risking him or her own birth defect? And how on earth did I expect to care for an infant when I couldn't carry one around on my own?

It took a decent amount of convincing on our part and the help of some very supportive friends and family to make the doubters understand that my husband and I did do a considerable amount of pre-conception research, discussion, and doctor visits before we finally felt prepared and secure in the adventure we were about to embark on. Sure, our future was still filled with many questions about how my body would react and such, but we were confident that we were taking every preventative measure possible to insure both my own pregnancy survival and the healthy delivery of a healthy baby. Of course, we were a bit scared of the unknown events that could possibly go wrong. But we were mostly over-the-moon-excited for our little one on the way.

And you know what? Sweetie arrived just fine. I made it through the pregnancy with flying colors. I had a relatively easy labor and delivery. And I manage(d) to care for my baby to the very best of my abilities using just a wee bit of adjustment to the "norm" and some really great help from friends and family.

As for those doubters? Well, they're all totally in love with Sweetie and can't imagine a world without her. And they're also incredibly proud of me for all that I've been able to accomplish with her. They see the great growth and self-confidence I've gained in my role as "mom" and they think I'm doing a pretty terrific job with her.

All this just goes to show you - don't underestimate the power of d'Amy - dang it.

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