Holy cow. It’s feeling real. Like REAL real. Like, it could be five or six weeks until we meet you but it could be earlier, too and I’ll admit…I’m starting to feel anxious.
Excited, for sure. I’ve started picturing what our first moments together will be like. I see you with dark hair and lots of it. That’s unlikely, assuming you look like your big sister, but I just have a feeling. I think about how great you will smell, and how soft your skin will be, and how amazing it will be to have our family together for the first time.
But anxious. What if you come before Grammy gets here and I’m scrambling for childcare? What if you come before I finish my massive pre-baby to-do list and I leave my colleagues and clients hanging? What if it hurts even more than I remember, and I truly lose my mind at the first signs of labor?
The logistics are stressful. After weeks of saying, “oh, we’ll get to it,” it’s finally time to buckle down and get your car seat out and cleaned. It’s time to pack the hospital bag and put together our call/text list for letting friends and family know that you’re on your way. We need to get serious about finding a new vehicle that is better suited for two car seats.
But we’ll do it. Goodness knows I’m not sleeping much, so I might as well write out some to-do lists. The heartburn, rib pain, restless leg and calf cramps are as bad as ever, and I’m just not ever feeling comfortable. The end is near and that’s still bittersweet, so for now, I’m just trying to self-soothe with chocolate and remember that it’s all for a good cause: a happy, healthy baby.
Love you, kiddo.