I’m Almost 8 Weeks Out and Terrified

Yes, you heard it here first I’m going to be giving birth on April 21, 2020 and I’m scared shitless. I mean obviously I knew this day would come because I am pregnant and it’s not a huge surprise as to what to expect because I’ve done it before but damn, I’m going to be the mom of three. Three is more than I can even hold in my hands and Santiago and I will officially be out numbered. I’m worried because they’re so close in age. I mean, at this point, I’m not just going to be the mom of three kids, I’m going to be the mom of three babies.

I think my stress and anxiety comes from four different places. The first is, my two kids are in what I call a nightmare stage. Alone, they’re manageable, but together the combination is lethal. I’m dealing with Santi who is three and superannoying and Joaquin who is one and extremely demanding. Santi knows he’s getting a brother and he really is very, very sweet with Joaquin, but he also knows that he’s about to start getting 1/3rd of me and it’s pissing him off. He’s throwing tantrums that he’s never done before, refusing to share with his brother and completely ignoring me when he’s not into what I’m saying. The other day, him and his brother were sharing a toy and Santi decided it was going to be only his. Since the toy in question was purchased for both of them, I really did make it a point to stress that they had to share—it was non-negotiable. So, when it was Santi’s turn with the toy, he left the room and hid it. My child rather hide it and not play with it at all, then share with his little brother. Fun right? WRONG. Because as I mentioned earlier, Joaquin is extremely demanding. He does absolutely nothing on command even if you can tell he really wants to (like fall asleep), and goes from happy to completely hysterical in .5 seconds. Yesterday, I walked into his room and presumably “interrupted” him and he yelled at me. He didn’t stop until I walked out. Staring at him from the door, he smiled with gigantic tears in his eyes and continued playing. I’m sorry, am I that annoying? No, my kids are that weird.

They play off of each other so when they’re together, it seems like the world is going to end with the crying, laughing, screaming, running, etc… When they’re alone, I feel like I can do anything with them and a newborn.

My second source of anxiety comes from the fact that they’re going to be going through so many changes at once. I mean, let’s face it—changes are hard for me, how can they not be for my children? In a matter of less than three months they’re going to be getting a new sibling, moving out of their home and into a new one and oh—did I mention the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel isn’t coming back? Yeah J She gave me the news a few weeks ago. The temporary nanny we have is leaving April 27th and I don’t have a replacement. Even if I do find someone, it’ll be someone they don’t know. This actually has me so anxious that Santiago and I have a meeting with a parenting expert (Lina Acosta from Stop Parenting Alone) in two weeks for strategies on how to be good parents, not ruin our kids lives, and transition them from one scenario to another. How will it go? Will she call DCF on us? I’m not sure but I’ll keep you guys posted!

The third source of anxiety is probably the one that bothers me least but it’s on my mind just the same. I’m going to have three sons. So many people have told me that boys are easier, and so many people have wished me luck. I don’t know what I’m in for. I know that my boys are active and rough and loud and all the things my imaginary daughter was not. Three kids is one thing, three babies is another, and three sons is probably a circus. Am I going to survive? Like for real, WILL I SURVIVE THIS?

My final source of anxiety is actually pretty selfish and since I’m aware it’s about me, it makes me feel guilty and worse about everything. I’m worried about myself. I’m worried that I’ll never feel like young me again and that I’ll never look like young me again. I worry that Santiago and I will be dedicated 100% to the kids and not to each other. I worry that I’ll never sleep again or enjoy a meal in silence. Yes, I wanted kids and yes, they make me so happy and fulfill me in so many ways, but damn, I really miss my old self. I miss being able to listen to whatever I want on the radio, being able to go to dinner whenever I want and being able to drink and eat whatever I want (you know, because Old Adriana wasn’t pregnant). I look at my life and I feel so blessed. I mean, come on—my kids, regardless of what I said earlier, are the best. They’re sweet, hilarious, companionate and adorable. I couldn’t imagine my life without them, but that doesn’t mean I can’t remember my life before them, right?

I took Joaquin to the pediatrician yesterday and spoke with a man who also had two sons. His third, luckily enough, was a daughter. Right before he left his exact words to me were “Hey, congratulations. It’s going to be hell so buy the boys a cage.”

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