Here I am, days away from my due date and you would think that I would be anxious to get this kid out.
And I am.
But I'm also not.
You see, this isn't my first time at the circus. I fully remember what I call the "rough parts". The labor, the sleepless nights, the seemingly endless diaper changes.
And with my firstborn, it was just her.
Now I know I will have to deal with all those "rough parts" AND run after a toddler. Just thinking about it makes me exhausted.
But while I know the level of exhaustion will be exponentially greater, so will the amount of room in my heart.
Why then am I still afraid?
Why does every twinge inside make me nervous that this is the moment my life will (once again) change forever?
Why have I been putting off packing my hospital bag, setting up the baby's bassinet, even getting the car seat in the car?
Do I think that by avoiding these things, I will miraculously be granted more time to become "ready"? Can any parent, no matter what number child they are on, be truly "ready"?
I don't know.
What I do know is that I can't wait to lay my eyes on my newest child.
But I am also trying to make the most of my final days as a mother of one.
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