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I'm
I have six and a half weeks left to go. I am not only getting a little crabby...I am also majorly freaking out. What the fuck am I doing? For as long as I can remember, I have wanted a child. I have tried with two husbands, any and everything doctors recommended, to conceive. It's finally worked and now I am thinking how much I love my life as it is. Carefree. Pick up and go. Sundays full of Lifetime movies. What-The-Fuck. Now I will be up to my elbows in baby shit, spit up, diapers, breast-feeding, crying, awake all hours of the night, packing diaper bags just to go to the friggin grocery store....I am seriously having some sort of panic attack over this. I talked with hubby about it, as I do everything under the sun. He laughed a little bit. He said he read this was normal on babycenter.com. He isn't freaked out at all. He said this child is going to be a part of him and a part of me, and reminded me nothing can be more of a special bond between two people than that. He said our child is going to grow up in such a healthy, loving environment. He said it's only natural to be afraid of such a big change. He also said change is good. He's so right, and he is so calming for me. I fell asleep on his chest dreaming of the moment he finds out the sex of the baby and how thrilled he will be. I woke up this morning thinking about what a wonderful man I married, and how he is going to be an excellent father. He is such a patient and kind person. Now I am out of my land of peaceful thoughts and am back to freaking out again. All I keep thinking about it that this is a permanant thing. I cannot run away like I do everything else. Ever since my divorce, if something hurts me, I cut it out of my life and walk away, easily. This is a shit load of responsibility and it's going to be here before I know it, and it's here for good. I wish I wasn't feeling like this.
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