So I’m looking at the baby counter I posted in the sidebar, and that darn thing just keeps ticking down the days.
When I tell people I’m due in June it sounds like a long time from now. I mean it’s still winter. Late spring is months from now, right?
But that counter says I’m almost just 100 days away from a new baby. And when you break it down into those terms, well, that doesn’t seem like very much time at all.
I’m going to go get a paper bag to hyper-ventilate into.
Be right back.
O.K., all better.
You know when I was pregnant with David I didn’t feel anxious or worried or nervous. You’d think since he was the first, I would have been all worked up. But I was cool as a cucumber.
Maybe it was the bliss of ignorance then. This time I know what’s coming.
Maybe it’s because we still have to get the laundry room on the main floor moved to the basement, then turn that room into a proper nursery.
Maybe it’s because the doctor told me since I had a C-Section last time, but was healthy, I could choose whether I wanted to have another C-Section or a vaginal birth. Then he proceeded to list all the life-threatening complications that come with both options. And that have equal probability of happening in both instances. It seems either way I may hemorrhage to death. So I guess I have to decide which way I would prefer to leave this earthly plane? Oh, it didn’t help when the nurse asked me if I’d ever signed an End of Life Statement.
(Note to self – Purchase large life insurance policy before June.)
Maybe it’s because I’ve seen too many episodes of Oprah, watched too much Discovery Channel and read too many other blogs about babies who weren’t born healthy.
Maybe it’s because I wonder how I’m going to handle an infant and a high energy four year old on three hours sleep a night.
Whatever it is, I think I’m going to stop looking at that counter, and go back to thinking about far, far off June when the snow will be gone, flowers bloomed and birds singing.
I feel relaxed already.