Only 5 short weeks left in this pregnancy. Who the heck authorized me becoming a mother of TWO?
The panic has begun.
I worry about what I am going to do when I DO go into labor. Who will watch Noah? How long will I labor? Who is going to be with me in the delivery room? Will I be driving myself to the hospital?
The other day my Dad asked if there was a test they could do to determine what day you were going to deliver on. Ha. If only! The only way I can avoid the panic is to plan, and you can not plan your delivery.
Well, not true. I was induced with Noah because he was late. Not REALLY late, but enough that the Doc agreed to induce me. I want to avoid that as much as possible this time around. So I am not planning on that plan.
I know that it will all play out as it should without any major hiccups. I know that I have friends and family that will help me 'figure things out' as they come. But I have this need to anticipate exactly what could happen and make a plan.
And don't get me started on the panic of 'what the hell am I going to do once Amelia is here and I have to take care of her AND Noah and Jeff will be in JAPAN?' Overreaction... maybe... but the seemingly innocuous task of going to the grocery store is more than I can handle with just Noah in tow. Throw a newborn in the mix and we may never eat again.
So 35 days till d-day. Of course I am excited, happy, over-the-moon. More so than panic-y. But I am so torn between wishing these 35 days away and begging time to stand still.
Either way, the Rodenhizer's will be a party of 4 in about a month.