Monday, January 23, 2012
I am starting to freak out a little bit. Okay. Maybe a lot. But it's all internal freaking out at this point. My mind racing with all sorts of thoughts.
Can I do this? Am I ready? Are WE ready? What will it be like? How will labor be? When will she arrive? Can I handle the pain? (epidural? yes, please!) Will she be healthy? Who will she look like? How quickly will I recover? The questions are endless. The thinking is constant.
But there is also a ridiculous amount of excitement. I am ready for her to be in our lives. Ready to begin the journey of motherhood. And for my husband to become a father. You see, I am generally not a very patient person when it comes to waiting for something I am excited about. So the prospect of 7 more weeks of waiting is akin to torture for me. People tell me that being pregnant is much easier than caring for a newborn. I am sure they are right. But that still doesn't make me any less excited or anxious or nervous or curious for the adventure to begin.
Seven. More. Weeks. We're nearing the homestretch. I hope it goes quickly.