Please Observe...

I would like to take one minute and direct everyone's attention to my baby counter (that doesn't have anything to do with babies). Does it say 62 days? Yes it does! YAY! Baby is coming soon, which is hard to wrap my mind around. But I have gotten to the point where I'm not really counting down the arrival of Baby. I am counting down to how many days before I get to sleep on my stomach again! I realize I won't be sleeping much more than I am now, but those few times where I will be able to catch a wink? You better believe I will be face down.

On a more baby-centered note, it is starting to set in that I am actually going to have a baby in about two months here. The nice people at the hospital, I am told, are actually going to give me a little baby and tell me to take it home. I have to wonder to myself, what are they thinking?

I have a student who loves to grow plants, and as a result is always giving them away to make room for more. He came to me at the end of last year, asking me if I wanted yet another plant. I had to confess to him that I had killed every plant he had ever given me, and I just don't know if he wants to sacrifice his passion to me like that. He arrived the next day with a cactus, informing me that I only had to water it once every three months. I have actually kept the cactus alive, because Joe waters it every three months. And these people want to give me a child that has to be watered every four hours? Again, I ask them, what are they thinking?

I was in Nursery for about a year. I had a lot of help, about four other people, including my husband. I am fully aware that I was not the favorite in the room. The kids did what I said, yes. They stayed in their seats for me when the wouldn't for anyone else, that's true. But they didn't like me. And do you know what the worst part was? I didn't care. And now, I am going to have one in my house! I don't know what people are thinking. I don't know what I was thinking. I hope Joe doesn't mind that I intend on giving him the kid for the first 8-10 years, and them I'll take over. I do better with teenagers. They can reason. But some kid screaming at me because he had a bowel movement? Heaven help my kids!

My only comfort is the hope that I won't dry heave at my own child's poop, and that my own child will not need me to constantly entertain him/her (I'm not a friend. I'm a grown-up...at least until they're 10), and the my own child's crying won't make me not want to shop anymore. As of now, those maternal instincts haven't quite kicked in. Maybe it's because I have never really wanted to be that stay-at-home mom who cleaned and cooked at made cookies (as a matter of fact, I am a terrible housewife. I hate cleaning; I don't mind cooking, I just like to do it on my terms). Don't get me wrong. We wanted this baby. We paid dearly for this baby. This baby is a very literal miracle given to us by Heavenly Father and the medical community. This baby is probably the most wanted baby to ever grace a mother's womb. It took a lot time, money, and tears to get this little one here. And I am grateful. I want a family, and I want to be a mom. Unfortunately, it hasn't been until recently that my mothering skills have been called into question. By myself, mind you. Joe has no fear. He's excited (although I have a sneaking suspicion that he is more excited to laugh at me when I dry-heave over diapers...). And I am sure once I have that little one here, actually in the flesh and not just kicking my bladder, that I will be fine. But really. Really? Shouldn't there be a test that I have to take to have a baby in my house? Shouldn't there be some formal interview?
Q: Do you like to clean?
A: No. Do you like to? I have dishes that need to be done.
Q: Do you like children?
A: Not other people's. Strangers, I mean. I like my friend's kids, but that's mostly because they're cute, and I don't have to keep them.
Q: But you are a teacher. Shouldn't you like kids to be a teacher?
A: No. You have to like teenagers to be a teacher. And I like teenagers.
Q: Why do you like teenagers over little kids?
A: Because I don't have to clean up their poop, tie their shoes, or have them vomit on my shoulder. A lot less mucus involved with teenagers. And I can tell them that it's their responsibility to do what they are supposed to do.
Q: So why do you want to have children?
A:....I don't know. It's biological, I guess. And I am going off the faith that I'll like my own kids over other people's. Plus, I'm a likable person. I might screw up a little when they are small, but I will be stellar once they hit ten.
Q: Don't you like babies?
A: Oh sure. I just don't know what to do with them.
Q: Like changing their diapers?
A: No, I know about all that stuff, and I can do it. I know about the feeding stuff, too, and I am pretty sure I'll be okay with that. But then what? Do have to hold and coo all the time? I know they sleep, but what'll I do when they're awake? You can just give a book to a baby and say, "This is my favorite book. I love the way Gatsby and Daisy are both not the best people in the world, but I feel for them. I understand Daisy despite her selfishness. It's wonderful. Oh, and check out the symbolism in chapter 8. It's glorious." I mean, they can't even talk! Really? Really!
Q: Despite all of this, you still want to have a baby? You are still willing to go through all that you have been through, go into debt, and take extreme chances? For this? Are you crazy?
A: Yes, I still want to have a baby. I guess that does make me crazy.
Q: You are asking us, a responsible party, to give you, a self-proclaimed crazy woman, a baby that you admit you have no idea how to handle.
A: Yes. I think so.
Q: We will make our decision and let you know by Friday.

I guess what I am trying to say is...even though I want to be a mom, even though I know that I am ready, and I'm really not worried about loving my baby or doing the right things for my baby (I am, after all, a fairly logical person. I know that those things will come with time), I am scared shit-less. To put it in the nicest terms.