Tuesday, January 29
I realized last week that I'm 24 weeks pregnant. If you're counting a month as four weeks (which is debatable), then I am around six months pregnant.
The VERY night of this realization, I started having the same recurring dream. Or should I call it a nightmare? In this dream/nightmare, I'm laying on the labor bed, having just given birth to the baby. The doctor is inflicting whatever torture is considered normal after giving birth (I think it involves stitches and extreme amounts of pain?), and then the nurse comes over and hands me the baby, all wrapped up in a hospital receiving blanket...all perfect looking. Just as the nurse lets go, I drop the baby on the floor. Like...the hard hospital floor meets soft baby head. Seriously. It's a nightmare that won't go away. Has anyone else ever had a fear that they would drop their new baby?
There are things that I feel like I have nailed down when it comes to the baby and the birth. I mean...as much as one can nail these things down. I know what kind of birth I want (give me all the medicine possible, please and thank you). I know how I feel about breastfeeding (and I feel strongly). I know how I feel about vaccines (we won't even go there on this blog, mmmkay?). I know where I plan to have the baby sleep when he or she comes home, and I know that I will still look six months pregnant upon leaving the hospital. Thanks to everyone for sharing that little tidbit with me, because seriously...I had no idea and would have been horrified if I hadn't been warned.
Beyond these things, I feel unprepared and sort of clueless. It wasn't until about two years ago that I realized that babies needed a bath every SINGLE day. Thank God for my mom who wisely pointed out that babies poop and sweat and need bathed like everyone else. EVERY DAY. But I don't know how to give a newborn a bath without hurting them or drowning them. I don't know how to clip their tiny fingernails (ouch!). I don't know how to make them eat if they don't want to. I don't know anything about tummy time and in fact didn't know that it was a real "thing" that requires planning and timing (what?) until recently. And, stupidly, I am mostly worried about the fact that I don't know where to get baby clothes that I like. Because I mostly don't like what I see when I'm shopping, and by the way, since when did it become appropriate to dress up a baby girl in cheetah print and sequins?! No, no, no. I have no clue where to buy baby clothing that won't make me vomit and/or make my baby look like a minature exotic dancer. (Ideas? Anyone?)
Last Saturday, I drove to the airport to pick up Jared. He had been home in PA visiting family for a week. When we got home and I took off my jacket, he looked at my belly, his eyes got wide, and he said, "WOW. Your stomach is REALLY getting big. I better paint the baby's room tomorrow." And he did. Then he put together the crib.
You guys. It's really happening. I think I better figure some things out soon.