With less than a month to go before the due date of my very first child, I’ve been spending these remaining days getting ready for the baby while trying to rest up as much as I can. As I just hung up some cute artwork I made from old boxes and the adorable animal print wrapping paper my parents had used for their gifts to the baby, I couldn’t help but think that this is it. I’m finally going to be a parent. And part of it overjoyed me while the other part of it terrified me.
Life as I know it is ending and a new, wonderful beginning awaits. But part of me is completely freaked out. I’m going to be someone’s mom. Me. The girl who has only held 2 babies ever in her life. The girl who has never changed a diaper. The girl who once upon a time used to get so intoxicated she hoped to wash away every thought she ever had.
Apparently, during this time, I somehow grew up for good. But I know I can’t sit here and dream of going back to when I was a kid. Now I will have a kid, and I’ve got to give him or her the very best life I can. I had such an amazing childhood. My happiest memories are of my when I was little; playing with my brother and my cousins. For this reason, once I got into adulthood, I realized I really wanted to have children of my own. We found out we were pregnant 8 weeks in and we were so overjoyed, we got married. As if I wasn’t delighted enough by marrying such an incredible man and having a baby on the way, when I went for my first ultrasound, I was just smitten. As soon as I saw my baby on the screen, I burst into tears. It was an overwhelming feeling of pure happiness. That’s MY kid! Right there! And I could hear the heartbeat. And from that moment on, I have been completely head over heels for this little person who has been kicking me and causing me quite a bit of discomfort over the last 9 months.
Yes, I’m becoming a parent. Thirty-four years is quite a while to have enjoyed life on my own selfish terms. Ready or not, here it comes!