Today is the 14th, which means there is only one month between me and my due date. Only four weeks left. This baby has gone from being a million miles away, just a speck on my calendar's distant future, to being so in-my-face I can't escape it.
We're now in the "End Days." Those last gasps of pregnancy, where you're crossing all your T's and dotting all your I's, and scavenging leftover baby clothes from all your friends, and rearranging the whole house. I must say, it is SO much easier getting ready for baby the second time around, especially when we're not bringing baby home to a studio apartment. Sure, we don't have a dishwasher or laundry facilities where we're living right now, but at least we have SPACE. At least we're not dumping everything we own to make room for the baby. This time, we've only had to dump a few things.
I'm in that space again, that in-between space, emotionally. Where I feel my baby's arrival so impending, it disrupts my functioning. I walk around in a daze. I'm here, but not here. I don't sleep at night anymore. My baby is coming, I know it, I can feel it, and there is nothing else I can focus on. She's everywhere. The most surprising thing, for me, is how little fear I have this time around. I just want her here so badly, in my arms, against my heart. I miss her, and I've never met her. But there's no one else in the world I want to see more. I long for her, my daughter.
Collin has been feeling the baby's arrival, too, though obviously not in the same way. This baby means something very different for him, and he is excited and asks every day if she's here yet ("Trust me, you'll know when she's here." Husband reassures him). But we're seeing the other side of sibling adjustment, the darker side. The anxiety, that presents itself as acting out and acting out and acting out. I know what he's really wanting is to know where he stands, do we still love him completely, even when he's behaving badly? Do we still cherish him as much as we did before the new baby came into our lives?
Yes, of course we do. We cherish you more than ever. But please, please stop throwing EVERYTHING. Please stop screaming and hitting and kicking. I know you're confused and a little bit scared right now, and that's why we haven't sold you to the circus yet, but would a single interaction without having to grit my teeth be too much to ask?
Oh, Collin. He bounces so fast between "I'm a baby!" and "I'm a big kid!" that I'm sure he's having some sort of identity crisis.
Husband has put in his time-off request at work, we've arranged childcare for Collin during the birth, we've gathered (almost) everything we need for the baby. We've even washed all the tiny onesies and swaddles, and organized them neatly in their drawers. Now, all that's left is to wait. Wait for three to become four.