My official due date is in two days. I was secretly hoping that the baby would decide to make an appearance this weekend, seeing as it is a holiday and my Hubby is home for a three day weekend. I took full advantage of him being here. How he didn't strangle me with his bare hands, I will never know. The house is immaculate, the fridge is full of food, car is washed and vaccumed and laundry is done. I've dusted and wiped every surface of this place and changed all of the sheets. My OCD Cleaning Problem has gone into super over drive. I keep thinking about how I don't know who is going to be here when and I need my house to look clean and tidy no matter what.
I even had the opportunity to treat myself to a manicure & pedicure and a fresh blow dry. I feel like a million bucks. (Well, minus the double chin and cellulite.) With my luck, however, the baby won't show up for another week and I will be back to chipped nails, greasy hair and disarray. But hey, I'm enjoying the moment of feeling put together for the time being.
I'm starting to feel really good and really excited about the whole impeding birth. The fear of leaving Rose behind while I head to the hospital for a couple of days has started to subside. It's not that I don't think she will be taken care of. She has plenty of people around her to make her happy and spoil her rotten until I come home. I just have this pit in my stomach thinking about leaving her and going through the birth. It's just nerve wracking to leave and not know exactly when I will be home and in what form. It puts a pit in my stomach and a little tear in my eye.
Bottom line, I've got to suck it up and get over it. There really is no turning back now! This baby is coming and soon. My biggest worry now is how we are going to make the transition from the three of us to four. I get the feeling that I am the one that is going to have the biggest adjustment problem. I am going to miss the days of just the two of us.
As far as the two of them meeting for the first time, I've made the decision that I don't want her to come and visit the hospital until is time to come home. That way we can all visit and leave together and she doesn't have to be too confused as to why I am staying behind and not coming home with her. I've already got a little gift packed for her from her new brother or sister. Hopefully, that will lessen the shock!
So... bags are packed, car seat installed by a giant, protective husband, bassinet is dressed, clothes washed, bottles (not yet) sterilized. I'm ready and waiting. I just keep picturing a quick, easy birth ending with me, Brian and the baby cuddling and getting to know one another. Pray it's soon. Mama can't take another week of this.
One of my very best friends sent me this the other day, and I just have to share it. It completely sums up how I am feeling. It is good to know that I am not alone with all of my fears and reservations.
Loving Two
I walk along holding your 2-year-old hand, basking in the glow of our
magical relationship. Suddenly I feel a kick from within,
to remind me that our time alone is limited.
And I wonder: how could I ever love another child as I love you?
He is born, and I watch you. I
see the pain you feel at having to share me as you’ve never shared me before. I hear you tell me in your own way, “Please
love only me”. And I hear myself tell
you in mine, “I can’t”, knowing, that I never can again. You cry.
I cry with you. I almost see our
new baby as an intruder on the precious relationship we once shared. A relationship we can never quite have again.
But then, barely noticing, I find myself attached to that new being,
and feeling almost guilty. I’m afraid to let you see me enjoying him, like I am
betraying you. But then I notice your
resentment change, first to curiosity, then to protectiveness, finally to
genuine affection. The days pass, and we settle into a new routine. The memory
of days with just the two of us is fading fast.
But something else is replacing those wonderful times we shared as
two. There are new times–only now, we
are three. I watch the love between you
grow, the way you look at each other, touch each other. I watch how he adores you, as I have for so
long. I see how excited you are by each
of his new accomplishments. And I begin
to realize that I haven’t taken something from you, I’ve given something to
you.
I notice that I am no longer afraid to share my love openly with both
of you. I find that my love for each of
you is as different as you are, but equally strong. And my question is finally answered, to my
amazement. Yes, I can love another child
as much as I love you–only differently. And
although I realize that you may have to share my time, I now know you’ll never
share my love. There’s enough of that
for both of you–you each have your own supply.
I love you– both. And I thank you both for blessing my life.
- Author Unknown
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