In the weeks leading up to Anna's birth, I can remember feeling fairly calm. Yes, I was excited about meeting our new baby. But I also knew that life was about to drastically change, and I was content to enjoy my last few days of baby-free time. Mike and I went out to nice dinners. We went to the movies. I spent leisurely hours at Barnes & Noble with stacks of gossip magazines by my side. The new little person would make his or her appearance eventually, and I was in no rush to offer an eviction notice. It probably helped that it was also the holiday season, so there was Christmas shopping and decorating and baking to keep me distracted. It also probably helped that we had the nursery done in October, so I had nothing to stress about - other than if I had read every single page in every single pregnancy book I owned. (For the record, I had. Twice. I found my copy of "Your Pregnancy Week By Week" last week when I was straightening up our bedroom and the last chapter I read this pregnancy was "Week 14". Oops.)
Once the contractions started? Well, let's just say I felt a little more along the lines of, "Baby, please come out. Like, NOW."
This time around, though, my emotions have been a little more conflicted. On the one hand, I'm not sure I'm ready to let go of the life I have now. (Remember? We talked about this - I'm slightly sentimental.) But mostly I feel like this pregnancy has been dragging on forever. Yes, it's true that we really have no names picked out (there are a few front runners - more on this subject later). Yes, it's true that until a few days ago the new baby's room didn't have a door and there were random hammers and tape measures strewn about. Yes, it's true that starting all over again at the newborn stage terrifies the crap out of me.
But despite all of that, even though I haven't read a single page about preparing for child birth this time around or don't have our hospital bags totally packed and ready to go, I know that the minute that little baby is placed in my arms none of it will matter.
People always say the babies who aren't born first tend to get screwed when it comes to things like baby books or number of photos taken. But it seems to me they have a huge advantage in the fact that their parents already realize how much they are going to be loved. Mike and I have talked so many times about how, having been through it once, it will be so much easier to deal with sleepless nights and poop explosions and crying jags because we know how much we love Anna and we also know how quickly it goes by. (Someone please remind me of this in a few months, though, ok?)
The car seat and the baby swing might not be totally ready, but our hearts are.
So with that in mind, Baby, I'm giving you the go-ahead to make your appearance. Just give me a few minutes to brush up on when it is, exactly, that we're supposed to get to the hospital...and don't be offended if you find a screwdriver in your crib.
|The last photo of our family of three, right before Mike and I left for the hospital on Saturday night.|