Big Realization

I was reading my "What to Expect When You're Expecting" book last night before I went to sleep, which I hadn't opened in at least several weeks. I flipped forward to the next month from where I had last read, only to discover I'm not in month five as I'd been thinking. I'm in month six.

Yikes.

Actually, I'd overheard my attorney talking about me to someone on the phone the other day and the fact that I'm six months pregnant. I remember thinking, hello, five months pregnant, come on don't you pay attention at all? Guess it's been me who hasn't been paying attention. But, since they don't really count pregnancy in months anymore, rather it's kept track in weeks, it can become difficult to figure out exactly where you are on the scale without doing some serious calculating in your head. And looking at the calendar. And I just don't have time for such nonsense. I've got lots of episodes of "Law & Order" to keep up with on TiVo.

Anyway, I skimmed through month six of my book, and do you know what it fails to mention? How I'm going to feel when six months of carrying Baby Neener slaps me in the face unannounced, making me realize just exactly how quickly this incubation time is passing, and also making me realize how unprepared we are.

Sure, we've got some of the "important" things taken care of already. We're in love, have a strong relationship that's been built over eleven years, married for several years and out of the "honeymoon" phase, have a house, have insurance, and have supportive family and friends. And, oh yeah, we planned on having this child. I mean, we actually had sex for procreational purposes. Crazy, I know.

But the "little" things, the things I would oh-so love to have all figured out and taken care of by the time January rolls around, the things I have no guarantees will get done? Driving me insane. And now that this deadline we've created for ourselves is fast approaching, I'm finding myself even more panicked. The baby's room is still mostly full of office clutter that needs to be boxed up and moved to I-don't-know-where. The baby's room still needs to be painted, and in order to do that, paint needs to be purchased and afore mentioned office clutter must be boxed up and moved to I-don't-know-where. Baby Neener has no crib, no dresser, no curtains (but does have curtain rods, thanks to the sweet deal I found online at Land of Nod several months ago - I rest so much easier at night knowing I rushed out and found flippin' curtain rods), and no rocker with which his mommy can rock him to sleep. Of course, I guess he doesn't need to sleep considering he has no crib. Ah, but wait - I did read in one of my books that you can let your newborn sleep in a drawer - whew! Guess he's good to go, then. Our financial planning came across a very big and unexpected hurdle when the new job Stephen took in early June didn't work out. Unfortunately, he's still yet to find anything solid or anything more than part-time crap work. Which not only leaves finances tight, but also leaves potential plans we had made - such as us wanting me to stay at home with the baby - up in the air and needing possible alternative plans in place. Like daycare. Which leaves me with one word on the expense of good, reliable, well-accredited daycare - OUCH.

I realize we all have our own forks in the road of life, ups and downs, battles to conquer - I know we aren't immune from the frustrations of life, even if we are expecting a child. I also realize things could be "much worse" - and, as Stephen so appropriately replies to such phrases, "Well, no shit, things can always be worse, that doesn't make me feel any better." It's just really frustrating when there's this part of me screaming I TOLD YOU SO repeatedly in the back of my mind, the pessimistic part of me that was very, very apprehensive about starting a family, not because I wasn't ready to or didn't want one, but because I just knew there would be problems that would pop up. I know how my luck goes, how the plans always seem to change when you least expect them to - I knew the minute we locked ourselves into starting a family was going to be the minute our problems went from being just our problems to our family's problems. I'm a perfectionist, and it's crippling to me when things don't go exactly as I want them to.

Which brings me back to my realization. I'm in my sixth month of pregnancy. I've got just over three more months to get over myself, to not only tell myself everything is going to work out but to actually convince myself to fully believe that is the case. Because it always does work out. Maybe not the way we want them to, maybe not the way we'd planned them to, but things always do work out. I just wish we had a little more time for things to work themselves out.

Of course, I pride myself in my sweet procrastination skills. Maybe it's a good thing we only have a few more months left to go. I always wrote my best essays the night before they were due. Who's to say I can't work the same magic under pressure in our current circumstances? I think I can, but pray for the sanity of myself and those close to me. I get pretty crazy with stress when I'm under the pressure of procrastination under normal circumstances...mix that in with pregnancy hormones and discomfort and we could have a possible explosion on our hands...Just kidding. I hope.

For the record, one thing is for certain, however, and that is the fact that my baby will NOT be sleeping in a drawer. I will sell a couple of my beloved purses, if necessary, to buy him a crib, but he will NOT be sleeping in a drawer. Call me spoiled or snobby, but that's just a whole other level of sad and pathetic to which I refuse to let myself or my child go.