Today, I might very well find out the date my son will be born. It’s not exactly the romantic vision of labor pains leading to a visit to the hospital and my husband freaking out that I had envisioned this whole pregnancy. I must be reasonable though. It is 2006 and doctors knowing what they know; know that I might have to be “encouraged” to have this baby. I’m thoroughly motivated to get him here, he on the other hand seems quite content to hiccup 14 times a day, dig his heels into my ribs, and shove his entire personage into my lungs when I sit down. Ah, parenthood.
For the past two months, I’ve made an unwilling habit of getting up 2 to 6 times a night to deal with various pregnancy related, sleep interrupting concerns. Lately, whenever I roll my largeness out of bed, I stop and look inside the awaiting bassinet beside our bed and realize that soon I’ll have to take care of someone before attempting sleep again. Last night, I realized in terror that he might not always go right back to sleep the way I do (or try to do). I could feed him but he may want to play… at 3a.m.! I’ve always considered myself a night owl, but once I fell asleep that was it. I love to sleep and baby, I sure hope you do too.
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