But despite grazing until the very last second on the day I turn the big 3-0, I'm sure I'll be in a slightly grumpy-frantic mood next Thursday morning, for four reasons.
1. I'll get to watch Nate and Evan eat/drink whatever they want for breakfast. I very rarely eat breakfast, but since I can't have it, I'm sure I'll want it. And considering I'm taking on more water than the Titanic these days (usually around 2 a.m.), I'm probably going to feel like I'd kill for an eye-dropper's worth of apple juice before we even get to the hospital.
2. I'll be 30, which I hear doesn't immediately sit well with a lot of people. I don't think I'll have time to give a hoot, but we'll see.
3. There's gotta be a mild freak-out factor involved when you know you're going to be filleted like a salmon in a few hours. I don't care that I (knock wood) won't see/feel anything; the idea of someone wielding a scalpel over my stomach while my eyes are still open creeps me out. Heck, a c-section wasn't even in the cards until a week ago. That's what I get after body-buttering my gut like a stack of hot pancakes through one child and 39 weeks with another in the hope of no stretch marks.
4. I'll be meeting a new little person who will be attached to me for the rest of my life. THE REST OF MY LIFE! Like, forever. That's awesome, amazing, and...a little bit scary. I just have to keep reminding myself that before Evan arrived, I was crazy-worried I wouldn't like him as much as PJ. My CAT. (And a crazy one, at that.) I literally thought if someone at Child Protective Services could read my mind--What the heck do I do if I like PJ more than Evan?-- there was no way they'd let me have a baby.
And, well, I don't think I have to say how that turned out.
Insane Amount of Love Meter:
Evan: A zillion to infinity.
PJ: .0001. And that's on a good day, considering he sheds like a llama, randomly bites me for no reason at all, and eats every flower I bring home.
So even though I'm still kind of scared to death about meeting my daughter (Ahhhhh! It's a girl, and I'm terrible at fixing hair!), I'm also excited. For one thing, it's like all the stars lined up at exactly the right time to add another person to our little family. The timing couldn't be more perfect: Evan no longer melts to the ground on a semi-regular basis, he's potty-trained (that's a huge post of shock and awe for another time), and he's talking up a storm. (Not that I always understand what he's saying, but knowing which movie or Disney Jr. cartoon he's just watched usually helps me figure it out.) All things I was so concerned about dealing with whenever the topic of having another baby came up. There are so many amazing moms out there who have other children while dealing with just plain hard, heart-wrenching issues with a sibling...I wasn't at all sure I could be one of them, and I'm so thankful that it looks like I'm not called to find out, at least on a really difficult level.
Evan already loves his little sister, in as far as he understands that he's going to have a little sister. (I guess we'll see how much he really understood next Thursday afternoon.) He certainly loves babies...I'm hoping that having our own baby to "pet" will make him stop asking to pet other people's babies. I know they'll have their ups and downs--oh, boy, did Allison and I have some doozies of fights growing up--but I'm so excited to watch the formation of what I hope will be a great buddy-buddy relationship. I think seeing them interact will help me let go (just a bit) of my own buddy-buddy relationship with Evan. Even before I was pregnant, sometimes I felt terribly sad at the thought of adding a new little someone I didn't know to the picture that has been Evan + Me. I know I won't feel that way once I see them/us together; it's just that it's been such a sweet, amazing road with Evan. We've got almost five years of just-us history. And I think having to wait as long as we did to truly become buddies who could communicate with each other has made that time all the more precious. You appreciate things more when they don't come easy.
But it's definitely helped that Evan's relationship with Nate has really deepend in the past year. Evan still wants to read two books and sleep with me, and we have our definite Things That Mommy and Evan Do Together--matinees with popcorn, tickets, root beer, and a straw, plus zoo, museum, sprinkle park, playground, and SuperTarget trips--but suddenly Evan and Nate have Their Things, too. Daddy is the one who takes him to basketball games and car races (also with popcorn, tickets, root beer, and a straw) and Lowe's. Daddy is the one who goes on nightly runs while Evan rides his bicycle alongside. Daddy is the one who lifts weights in the basement while acting as the announcer as Evan races his scooter around in circles. When we pull into the garage after an afternoon of running errands and Daddy's not home yet, Evan's bummed. In terms of having to take care of a new baby, it's a relief to know I don't have to be the main attraction to both a newborn and an almost 5-year-old...and I'm finally ok with sharing.
So while this little girl sits with her head butting into my right side, I'm not going to make any predictions. (Though I'm hoping for her sake that she doesn't have red hair, because there's a WHOLE LOTTA PINK in her closet.) I don't yet know who she is, other than her name--which, thank goodness, did not come from her daddy's list of potentials. I don't know if she'll be the cuddle-bug Evan is (but I can hope). I don't know if she'll be outgoing or shy, timid or fearless. (Considering her brother's genes, I'm going for outgoing and fearless.) I just know that if I'm anything like other moms out there, sometime after noon next Thursday, I'll fall in love all over again, and suddenly realize that there's more than enough love to go around.
And judging from this photo at 19 weeks and 3 days, I think Evan understood that before I did.
