I saw my baby today. At least, I’m almost positive he’s my baby, and I saw him on an ultrasound. He looks beautiful. He has a very cute little nose…
I’m struggling some, here, to embrace the moment and enjoy the ride to this baby. It’s so emotionally complicated, and awkward. How do I think of him as mine and embrace the moment without seeming like the predator looming over her uterus? Geez. I have every adoption book known to man and they don’t cover the whole predator-vibe. Or the insensitive clown-vibe. I like to kid around, you know? So there’s mutual kidding going on with dad and grandma, and part of me is like, hey, that girl is in serious discomfort, plus the whole imminent loss thing, and I’m over here having Comedy Hour… maybe not such a good idea.
I’m trying to play it cool, but I really, really want this baby. Last night, we were sure he was coming. After I got the call, I was shaking so much, and panicking. Everything is ready for him to live here, theoretically, but nothing is really ready for the hospital. I walked in circles for quite a while. We were walking in to the hospital and had enlisted all our helper troops when we got the false alarm message. My hands were still shaking when I woke up after a whopping 20 minutes of sleep.
Had lunch after the ultrasound with both parents and both grandmas. I had Toby and Brynn with me, and I think that helped break the ice, although at the end, Toby was kinda nuts and may have compromised my parenting rep. At least he didn’t say anything awful, unless he did it while I was at the buffet, loading his plate with crab puffs, per his demands.
So. There will be a baby, in a few days. And everything is pointing to him being mine. I will take the hint from the universe, and pack a bag full of blue pjs with puppies on them, cause we’re hardcore and that’s how we roll.