Newborn clothes are washed and tucked away in my childhood dresser. The crib is assembled and the room is freshly painted in a shade of ballet pink. We read “big brother” books to our son and have him talk to the baby every day. We are almost done preparing for baby #2.
My email this morning says my due date is 22 days away. I cannot believe it went so fast. This pregnancy flew by. Faster than my son’s first year. Faster than my son’s second year. The days are long but the years really are short.
I am going to blink and she is going to be here. I’ll ask myself how I ever lived without her. How we were ever just a family of three, like I did with her brother, when my husband and I asked what we did without him.
I write in a journal every week to show her someday, and to remind her how loved she was from the moment we knew we were having her. I never want my kids to ever doubt how loved they are. What else is more important than that?
We have her room (mostly) done and the hospital bag is packed. We’ve chosen a few little outfits to take her first photos in, which make me look at my son and think about how little he was once too.
With my son I was new at this. I was so scared I wouldn’t be good at it, that I couldn’t handle the sleepless nights, the fussy periods. Now I know I’ve got this.
I do worry about balancing two children, giving them both enough of my time. Back to bottles, night time feedings. Double the diapers and snuggles. For 12 weeks after I have her, the world will feel like a standstill–it always does when life gives you such a big change.
I can’t wait to give my son a sister, hopefully a best friend.
The most important thing I can do is just be present. Take her in. She is only going to be this little for such a small amount of time.