I may as well pick a daisy and tear off the leaves individually while saying "Excited" "Not Excited". I'm quite the roller coaster these days. Yesterday, as baby had a very active day, I actually felt excited to welcome this little one into the world. I thought about holding him and feeding him and just seeing him look at me with those big newborn eyes, and my heart melted just a bit.
And then we got home and Ethan, going through an I-will-not-listen-to-you-no-matter-what phase, reminded me of why I am so terrified of what's to come. He wears me out! And bed time is a nightmare. And all I could think was, "What in the world am I going to do with a newborn and a 3-year-old?
I know, I know. People do this all the time and everything will work out just fine. I know it will, but that doesn't mean I'm not scared. It doesn't mean that I don't dread the sleepless nights and the knowledge that I still have to be "Mommy" to Ethan regardless of whether all I want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep for however long the baby lets me sleep.
Man, this is gonna be tough. And this must be why God has decided the end of pregnancy should be so miserable. Because I am inching closer to a state where I know I won't care one bit about things to come as long as it means I'm not pregnant anymore!