Waiting Game

So, I’m 5 months pregnant. I have no idea what happened to the time, because it feels like Sean just turned one a month ago and that I just found out that we were spawning more craziness into the world. And then I look up, Sean is 15 months old already and I’m pushing 5 months into this pregnancy.

And time suddenly stopped.

Why? Because I’m looking forward to Wednesday. Murphy’s Law. Wednesday is when we go in for our 20-week ultrasound and find out (hopefully) if the Peanut is a boy or girl. At this point, the Peanut can hear what we’re saying and what’s going on — familiarizing itself with our voices. And this was also the point where we started bribing Sean — when he was still the Sea Monkey and not just the Monkey — to help us and the ultrasound tech and let us know his gender. 

I know, bad examples of parenting! And the kid wasn’t even born yet. And how about my claims that the Peanut can already hear. Whatever. How do I know it can hear us? I’ve got proof: When Hubbs talks to the belly? I can feel it kicking. When Sean shrieks? I can feel it squirm and jump around. Its just more proof that there is a little person in there, still growing, getting ready to bust out and turn our world upside down (in a wonderful way) around Christmas.

My kids will be 20 months apart. Hopefully, they’ll be friends for life. Buds. Confidants. In 20 years, they can commiserate about how overprotective and crazy their mother is. (For the record, I’ll be going crazy because I’ll have to pay for 2 kids to go to college at the same time.) At worst, hopefully, they’ll only think the other is a royal pain in the ass.

But honestly, I’m mostly worried about Sean and how he’ll react to this change. To not being the complete center of attention anymore. To not having my undivided attention when he needs or wants it. To having to wait for cuddles? He’s already got a bit of a jealous streak — he doesn’t like me holding other babies. AT ALL. And how do you explain to a 15 (or 20) month old that their world is going to turn upside down and things will be crazy, but to not forget that you love him? How do you explain that to him? How do you show him that your love is unshakable, even though you’re caring for a totally dependent infant at the time and you haven’t slept in 18 hours?

I don’t know.

But I do know this: My heart doubled in size the second I saw Sean. If the same thing happens again — and I’m sure it will — it will all work out. Love conquers all and all that lovey-dovey rot. And hopefully all that extra love will translate into me keeping the breastfeeding boobage that ensues.

Hey, a girl can dream.


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