Thirty-Four & Thirty-Five

Baby Love is 18 inches long and weighs five pounds,
kind of like a melon.

Is it normal to feel apprehensive at this point? Because I am. Suddenly the reality of this baby coming – in less than one month! – is hitting me square in the face. My emotions spin in a wide range throughout the day. Moments of panic, where I sniffle and confess I’m worried about being a good mother. Hours of frantic cleaning, where I purge our cupboards with ruthless vengeance. Times of reflection, where I sit in the nursery and think and think about what having an actual baby really means.

I’m scared, anxious, excited, and nervous. I bounce back and forth between an overwhelming desire to finally meet our Baby Love and a want to stop time and stay exactly as we are.

It’s a good, good thing that I have Timmy. He somehow remains confident and the only emotion he consistently exudes is pure, uninhibited, gloriously enthusiastic excitement. He is excited to be a father, excited to have our lives disrupted for the better, excited for the challenge of putting a little someone’s needs above our own, and excited for how our marriage is going to grow stronger and closer. He says life is about to get a whole lot better. He says we will love each other even more than we do now. He says I was made to be a mom.

And I believe him. (I think.)



Once again, this post is late. I'm already on to 36 weeks... eek!