This past weekend I celebrated Taylor’s upcoming arrival at a baby brunch hosted by my mother. The morning was filled with great brunch menu items, diva-status decorations, and raffled door prizes, in lieu of those boring games. It was a wonderful day spent getting advice from family and friends, and catching up on all things new. Once I got home, I was slammed with the thought, “I’m really about to be a mother!”
I must admit, I felt a bit of panic and a bit of excitement, a definite mix of emotions. My panic is more due to the various labor scenarios. There is just no way you can plan or anticipate what will happen that day. What if I go into labor en route? What if my water breaks while I am teaching my third grade students? What if I don’t pick up on the fact that I am in labor? Most importantly, what if I poop when I push? You hear all of the horror stories and a bit of old-wives’ tales. My least favorite, the tale of the cousin who had to make the decision, during labor and delivery, of whether to live or let her child live. So many questions that begin with “What if…”
I was also greeted with a gush of pure excitement. I’m 34 weeks this Wednesday and nearing the time I will finally meet my daughter. I’m excited about holding her! I’m excited about her first birthday! I’m excited about sitting on the couch with her and Marcus and watching a Saturday-morning cartoon! I’m excited about our first family vacation! I’m excited about so many things we will experience together, and my future as her mother.
No one knows what the future holds, yet my excitement about the future outweighs my panic. What I do know is that I am equipped with family and friends who love and support me, along with a wonderful ob/gyn!