I think I need to get my head in the game here. In roughly 4 months, I’ll have another baby living at my house. My baby. Needing a lot of attention and diapers and clothes and boobs and all of the things that newborns are so good at demanding. I might be the only one, or maybe this is the way it is for everyone, but I find that this pregnancy is going so fast that I cannot keep up. I thought it felt weird to flip the calendar to second trimester, and in a few weeks, I will welcome the third one. WHAT IS HAPPENING? Time is this weird concept that is not realistically evolving for me lately. Today I turn 24 weeks, and last night, we took this photo.
Isn’t he a good helper? Jude is getting used to the idea of a baby around, and he talks about her independently without my asking or urging which is so fun. Still though, I feel like there is a lot to do. I got together with some friends over the weekend, and we only see each other every few months, so I received a couple of little gifts for Norah. There are tiny pink things! And monogrammed things! In my house! And where to put them, I don’t know.
I know we have time to get the nursery done, but I also want it finished before I am in my last month because I
am a control freak and want to help out with all of it and get things set up on my own before I am too large or incapacitated to do it all. This means I have something like 12 or so weeks to get it done which is tons of time until I think about the mountains of things that reside in the closet of the guest bedroom that will soon be a nursery. And the furniture in there. And the white walls that will leave soon. And the furniture we need to purchase. And everything else there is to do. I thought nesting didn’t start until late in the game, but my cleaning and purging urges are out of control lately. At 7:58am this past Monday, I was cleaning out my freezer and pantry.
And then there is the realization that this baby does have to come out. Preferably from my vagina. And I am 100% certain in my convictions, but old fears from the last round are creeping up this week, and it’s scary.
[Side note: it might be my faulty memory, but I am fairly sure at this point in my first pregnancy I was in prenatal yoga and reading lots of parenting books and looking at a crib that already stood assembled in my house and feeling serene and confident in my ability to birth and completely ready for a new arrival. My, how time changes things.]
This post seems worthless and sort of a rant, but it feels good to write things down, no? Now off to get busy. I’ve got some cleaning to do.