Baby One More Time…

Baby. Two. Coming. Soon.

I don’t feel ready.  My heart may be prepared to welcome this little one (Aside: ah, the unlimited capacity of the human heart is truly remarkable, isn’t it?! Sigh!), but my brain and the rest of my life?  Not so sure.

Sure, baby clothes are washed.  We have all of the required baby stuff.  The nursery is ready. We even have a glider this time around (woo-hoo!).  We have a tentative “here comes the baby!” plan with the grandparents.  I keep waiting for my, “Let’s do this!” moment.  Still waiting.  Tick tock.

Perhaps I was just more naive last time around?  (Yep.)

Perhaps I just realize what labor and delivery can and will be?  Perhaps I’m just worried that this time I just don’t have it in me?

Perhaps I realize that I will be stretched even thinner than I am now?

Perhaps I feel like I was just getting used to one kiddo?

Perhaps I feel a little guilty about shaking up Mr. Pickle Pumpkin’s world?

Perhaps I’m already exhausted and can’t imagine more exhaustion?

Perhaps I’m worried about losing myself a little bit?  Or a little bit more?

Perhaps I’m worried about the money?

Perhaps I’m worried about complications for me or baby?

Perhaps I’m just worried about the unknowns?

Perhaps I’m just being silly?

The train is a-comin’ – no stopping it now!  So I’m going to dig deep for some Baby 2 Zen and try to give myself a pep talk, suck it up, put on a happy face, (insert Pollyanna-ish “you-can-do-it” cliche here), and get ready for my new normal.

(Note: speaking of “new normal” – that phrase has to be on some Top 10 Overused Catch Phrase List somewhere. Yuck.  Three lashes with a wet noodle for me.)

I’m going to embrace the madness, embrace the fears, embrace the wonder, embrace the goodness. Because this baby will be a wonder and a gift (when I’m sleep deprived and deep in the depths of the baby blues, please remind me I wrote this).  This baby is a whole new person – the only him or her possible in this entire universe.  And that is amazing.  I can’t wait to meet him/her.  My own little bundle of amazing.