You see, the fact is that I don't actually believe that I'm going to have a baby, at least not anytime soon. There is no denying that I am nearly full term. I walk around the house organizing baby clothes and cleaning nooks and crannies because the overly logical side of me knows that she's coming...soon. I complain about my back pain, and I stand up very slowly from the sitting position since it feels like if I move too quickly a baby just might try to make it's way out of me (sorry!), but the fact of the matter is this; I am in denial.
It's not that I don't want to have another child. I desperately do. It's just that for some reason I cannot wrap my mind around the idea that it is actually going to happen. I have the same feeling that I had in the planning stages of all of this; like we are still discussing whether it is the right time to start trying to conceive. I feel like we actually have to make a decision about whether we are going to have another baby or not. I don't know whats wrong with me.
When I got pregnant with Ian, it came as a happy surprise. While we had married younger than most, we weren't really planning on jumping right into a family. I was looking forward to spending at least the next two years as "just the two of us". But, alas, 2 short months into our marriage and three days before Christmas, my family doctor delivered the news; "No, you do not have the stomach flu, you are pregnant."
My initial response was to stop breathing for a moment. I think I may have uttered out the words "Holy shit". However it was soon followed with shock, and then joy. Overall, I was happy. When I shared the news with Toby, so was he. Though when I gave him a baggie with a biohazard sign on it with the test in it from the doctors office he thought that it was my way of telling him that there was something terribly, horribly wrong with me. ::giggles:: Silly boy.
But, as much of a surprise my pregnancy was, I embraced it. It felt very real to me the whole time. Mostly, I was very aware of the end result; I was going to be a mother, and I was going to give birth to a baby. Never once did that not seem real to me as it does this time. It's just ironic that it only seems unreal when it's planned.
I thought that these feelings would go away as I became larger. No such luck. There are 34 days until our baby is "due", which means less time than that. If she hasn't arrived yet, I'll be induced sometime in the week before that, which means 27-33 days from now. But, I can almost promise you that it will be sooner. I feel it. I have been convinced that she is coming on July 15th this entire time. Which is 17 days from now. Whoa. (P.S. While I'm making predictions, let's go ahead and throw this out there; 6 lbs, 11 oz, 20 inches long)
Maybe I'm just nervous about changing my little family. While we are all super excited to meet Vanessa-Kate, there is just so much new to be experienced. What will it be like to have a newborn and a toddler? What is it like to be a parent of two? For that matter, what is it like to be the parent of a girl? I'm pretty sure I know nothing about taking care of little girls. Will Ian be happy? Will he feel deserted? Mostly, the question that I believe every second time Mother-to-be asks herself; Will I be able to love another child nearly as much as I love the first?
I will. I know. But, sometimes it's hard to know until it happens. It's going to happen very soon.
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