Change

I'm reaching that phase of pregnancy where the whole concept of impending motherhood becomes much more realistic.  That phase where you realize that, ready or not, you are soon going to have an infant to love and care for to the best of your ability.  You know, that phase where you begin to question and doubt your ability.

There's a part of me that feels guilty as hell for feeling any sort of doubt or ambivalence about my imminent addition.  There's another part of me that says what the hell?  I feel the way I feel.  That's the part that is speaking the loudest at the moment.  

Lying in bed the other night it occurred to me that I really am about to start all over.  Midnight feedings, heating bottles, diaper explosions, unexplainable fussiness.  While Chase and I are doing all of this again (hopefully a bit less cluelessly this go round) I am going to be taking care of Jordan's increased needs as well.  To hope that she doesn't become needier and clingier is foolish.

I don't mean to paint a dismal picture of what's to come.  I've left out the miraculous parts.  The quiet that comes in the middle of the night when I'm nursing and it's just me and my tiny love.  The feeling in the pit of the stomach that comes when little hands wrap around my finger.  The way everyone melts at the sweetness of a sleeping infant.  Those first little smiles, whether or not they are caused by gas.  I am hoping for even more special moments this time as Jordan meets her baby brother and loves on him the way she loves on everyone else.  Of course, I'm not holding my breath for this because I know it's going to be a huge adjustment for her.  I don't expect her to love him the second she sees him.  I'll love it if it happens that way, but I'm trying to have realistic expectations.

It struck me recently that Jordan and I are enjoying the last of our days as just us.  That's not to say that we won't have us time still but soon it'll be the three of us each day instead of the two of us.  There's a part of me that's sad to see this end.  While I'm excited about having another child and looking forward to meeting him, there's a part of me that's mourning the loss of this relationship dynamic I have with Jordan.  I'm not sure how to explain it (which is probably rather obvious); I just know that there is a part of me that is sorrowful.

I am doing my best to acknowledge all of these feelings and then let them go.  I am well aware that I am a mass of conflicting hormones!  I know that as soon as I actually do have this baby and bring him home that our family dynamic will change, and it will be for the better.  I remember having some of these feelings when I was pregnant with Jordan.  I worried that maybe I wasn't really ready to give up my time and my life to become a mother (fine time to have that concern).  Looking back now I can laugh because I really cannot imagine life without my daughter.  I never imagined that I could love this much, that I had so much to give.  It'll be the same with Peanut.  My heart will expand as our family expands, and a year from now I'll wonder what life was like before we were a four person family.

I suppose what it all boils down to is change.  I am a true Taurus; I hate change.  I don't deal well with the unknown.  Yet is there any life situation guaranteed to be more fraught with change and the unknown than parenthood?  Yes, I'm aware of the irony.

This is another little symptom of pregnancy, I believe.  It goes along with the leg cramps and heartburn.  I've got a month to go, we're getting the nursery ready, I'm contemplating packing a bag for the hospital (you never know when you're going to go; it could be early), and now I'm questioning my ability to function as the parent I want to be once we actually have this baby.  I have a sneaking suspicion that these feelings are pretty damn normal.  What do you think?