Waiting on a Baby

I can honestly say that waiting for your baby to arrive has to be one of the most thrilling, nerve wracking, bizarre and surreal experiences in life. We are due on Labor Day, less than a week away, but he's already psyched us out a couple of times.

Just last night while I was making dinner, I thought my water broke. Turns out I just peed my pants.

Anyway, anytime I do anything in these last few days - go to the grocery store, make dinner, watch TV, check email, water the yard, go to sleep, wake up, pee my pants - I wonder to myself 'is this the last time I'll ever do this without another human being to take care of?'

Intense doesn't even begin to describe it.

So being the control freak that I am I console myself by doing chores. I've washed all his little clothes, sheets and blankets. Oh my God they're so freaking cute. I can't even handle it.

I make sure my bags are packed with all my essentials (read: flip flops for the hospital shower because the thought alone gives me panic attacks - did I mention I'm also a germ freak?), add to my baby playlist for the delivery room, write to him in his 'first year' diary telling him the dumbest things that come into my head.

But most of all I try to not freak out. If there is an upside to being in the 'advanced maternal' set (aside from being able to afford diapers and formula if my boobs don't work) it's knowing that I've been as selfish as a person can be for 36 years. I've done what I wanted when I wanted. I've lived in some amazing cities and soaked up everything they had to offer, spent countless weekends and late nights working away at my ad job without it negatively affecting anyone but me, even spent countless hours on the couch watching bad TV. And I've loved every second of it.

When I got pregnant I knew I signed up for a barrage of unsolicited advice from strangers, family and friends (though actually this never really bothered me. After all I've never done this before.) What I didn't realize was how many times I'd be asked the question, 'Are you ready?'

Just last night I was asked it for the thousandth time by a neighbor. And all I could do was answer honestly.

No.

I'm a realist. In my opinion nobody could ever really be ready to take on the responsibility of raising another human being. It's terrifying.

But I'm okay with that. It's what I signed up for. And something tells me that by me not thinking I've got it all figured out, I might raise a better human being in the process.

Or not. Frankly I'm just aiming to not raise a serial killer. And ideally someone who opens doors for ladies, says please and thank you and smiles more often than not.

We'll start there and see where we end up.

Sincerely,

Woman Wondering if This is Her Last Blog Post Before the Baby Comes