It's 5:16 am and I'm up. I've been up since 2 am. I have a cold (my very first one this pregnancy), I can't breathe, I have a nosebleed, I have a headache, I am so tired, but I just can't sleep. Did I mention the "getting cut open" in 2 days part? Oh, yeah. That too.
I think I may be freaking out a little bit.
Just kinda' quietly. On the inside.
I think I am not ready. I mean, the baby's room is ready. It's been all repainted for awhile now. Her crib is up, her new dresser is in there, the clothes have been freshly washed and put away. She has a few packs of disposable diapers (for now...I really want to switch to cloth), she has her new car seat and stroller and swing. And, she (almost definitely for sure) has her name all picked out. I think she is set. I think. But, I could be forgetting something.
Yes, I've done this before. Twice even. But, the last time was over 4 years ago now and I don't know if I'm remembering everything I should. The first time you have a baby you read all the books and gather all the information and have all your check-lists checked. The second time (if it is close enough to the first), you're set. Yeah, I've been there-done that. No biggie. Easy Peasy. The third time...when it has been years since the second time...you...uh...freak out, apparently.
But, that isn't even the biggest problem.
The biggest problem is that I think I'm just not ready to let you go yet, little one. I know that sounds crazy...but right now you are safe and sound under my heart and you are always with me. Having had two babies before I remember the sad feeling (once the feeling comes back to my body) of not having you there, moving around in my tummy, anymore. You will be in your Daddy's arms, or your Grandma's, or...someone who is visiting you...coming to meet you for the first time. You won't be with me, all the time, ever again.
I can remember thinking, "Can I hold my baby now?" (A Lot).
It's a hard thing that separation. Especially with a c-section because once you are born, who will they hand you to? Your Dad. That's right. I carry you inside of me for 9 months and I'm the last one who actually gets to hold you. The surgeon has you first, then your Dad (briefly), then all the other doctors and nurses, and then I think you even go for a bath and meet your visitors for a bit, and then, finally, somewhere down the line when they've finished with me and I can sit up a bit...I finally get to hold you.
I'll have to remember that moment, though. I do look forward to that moment. When I get to see your little face for the first time, all scrunched up and looking at me like, "Who are you and what is going on here?" It must be so hard for you, too. There is a real peace that sets in when you and I are finally together. Like a big sigh of relief is being let out of both of us.
The moment I finally get to hold you.
I look forward to that.
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