I went for a check up with my baby doctor (not to be confused with my baby daddy) the other day. I have a doctor’s appointment about every 15 minutes due to my “advanced maternal age” which I think is such a fancy way of saying “hot pregnant mama.”
My doctor said to me, “Are you excited?”
I assumed he was talking about the arrival of my baby in just over two weeks and not the news that Martha Stewart is going to try online dating.
I know I should have just given a hearty “Yes!” but instead I said, “By excited, do you mean slightly panicked and nervous?”
He insisted there was nothing to be worried about but since he is a 60 something year old man, I’m thinking he never had a c-section or mastitis or nursed a kid in the middle of the night when all you want to do is sleep.
But despite my fears, I know I will love this little boy. I know I will somehow find time for him and time for all my other kids. I know I will be tired. And happy. And guilty. And my nipples will hurt. I will push myself too much after my c-section. My house will be messy and that will make me crazy. And I will consider trading in my flat screen TV for just one uninterrupted nap.
And I know I will see all my kids together and it will fill my heart in a way I just never thought possible when I was single and independent and very rested.
A baby boy is coming our way that will complete our family. Even though we never quite realized how much we needed him.
So no, I’m not excited exactly. But I know everything is going to be good. Really good.