14 days

Dear 50% effaced, one centimeter dilated baby Vegas,

I’m nervous and a little green.  I can’t believe you’re on your way and I can’t believe we’re actually going to take care of you.  It’s not like we wouldn’t, I mean, we’re fit.  I promise.  It’s just that I’m pretty sure we’ll be good mothers and terrified that you’ll be a bad baby.  Wait.  That probably already makes me unfit.  I’m worried you’ll be so awful we won’t like you, that’s what everyone tells us anyway.  How frustrating you’ll be, how you won’t sleep, how you’ll scream.  Then, the well-meaning ones say that you’ll make it up to us by gazing into our eyes.  And by this I think they mean your mother’s eyes as she’s feeding you.  I gather you’ll pretty much hate me til you’re 12 and then I’ll hate you, so that’s awesome.

So when I sat down at work this morning, I took a deep breath and it hitched.  It hitched all the way up my spine and through my lungs and sprang out of my eyes in tears.  I’m not at all surprised.  People who get past the glassy eyes keep saying the same things:  Are you ready?  Getting ready?  How is D? and, sometimes, Are you excited?  And I am, Vegas.  I am all of those things.  Ready.  Getting Ready. Excited.  And I also know the answer about your mother, she’s doing just fine.  However, given your mother’s general good humor, “fine” is probably something you should be worried about.  When you’re out here, you’re shooting for “good”, not “fine”.  Got it?

I hear babies live in the moment, which is good, because that’s the way we’ve been doing things around here lately.  I’m eager for you to come, but I’m just as happy you aren’t here yet.  You’ll understand when you’re having kids of your own, or maybe when you ask out your first date.  It’s that kind of queasiness that makes you want to run, but has such a shiny reward at the end that you can’t help but work through it.  I promise the throwing up feeling will go away right after you ask her.  Can you promise me the same thing when you get here?  The before and after are just parts of life.  Just like I’m not mourning my last day of sleeping in (long gone by now, anyway), I’m not celebrating my first moments up with you.  Each thing in its time.  Remember that when you want my banana and I give you a bottle.

Vegas, these are the things I am: terrified excited apprehensive worried happy ill nervous delighted overwhelmed frantic paralyzed joyful.  I’ll bet you can hardly wait to join me.


6 Responses

  1. Oh dear god I almost cried!

    Best post ever!

  2. Good for you! Being able to put words to the feelings you’re experiencing is hard work and helps you over those mountains in life.You will be one well adjusted mama:)

  3. Wow that’s exactly how I feel about getting pregnant… I’m ready and geting ready.

    Well, you still need to have a name for probably boy Vegas…

  4. Great post!! We’re 4 weeks behind you and I’ve been having all the weird dreams Nerdstar isn’t having about Noah. I’m just so ready for him to be on the outside – then I can start worrying about all those things, like is he breathing.

    We’re going to have happy, mellow babies!

  5. It will be so much MORE than you ever imagined. Honest to god– your baby could pee on your shirt, then poop on your hand and then, when you feed him, he could vomit all over your shirt and you won’t care because he will be perfect and exactly wonderful.

  6. I wish I could tell you wonderful and reassuring things, but I haven’t been there yet, so that’s a little difficult. I could tell you things I think are true, that I oh-so-desperately hope are true, but I can’t speak with the voice of experience. At least I can say, for whatever it’s worth, that you aren’t alone.

    And I don’t think the baby will hate you. Up until about age 12 for a girl, or 15 for a boy, give or take. That’s about the age that I was an awful brat (and I kind of knew it at the time, which made it worse), and the age that I wanted to bludgeon my brother. I think it varies a little from kid to kid, but somewhere around there. It gets better after that, though.

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