31 and a half weeks.


Two months from today is my is due date. I think I’m in denial about it. I’m not really stressed; as a matter of fact if he came a little early, I’d be totally ok with that. It’s not like last time where there were so many questions that come from going through birth the first time. I basically know what to expect, assuming it goes as “planned”.

Where I find myself denying the fact that another human will be coming out of me in just 8ish weeks has to do with Owen. I wrote about it last week, how I was starting to get emotional about the time left with just him. If anything, that feeling is getting stronger, and maybe that’s part of the reason I haven’t finalized a paint color for his big boy room, or seriously moved forward with getting him out of the crib. Because he’s still the baby. My baby.

Our Eight Weeks Till Brother day started at the chiropractor. I wish I had been consistent about going last time around, as this pregnancy has felt way easier on my body. Owen likes coming because everyone gives him attention and there’s fish tanks and a train table to play with. He was happy as a clam when we headed over to Homegoods to do some browsing (because who doesn’t love Homegoods?), and was such a good boy as we shopped. I decided to reward him (and my gurgling stomach) with a special pizza lunch. We sat in the near-empty restaurant, just him and me, and shared some slices and a bottle of water. It was just…so nice. On the drive home, he kept telling me “Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy!”, a leftover phrase learned special for this past weekend. He can keep telling me that as long as he wants.

I’m not “done” with being pregnant yet, but I’m getting there. I waddle. Sleeping is uncomfortable and punctuated by frequent trips to the bathroom. I need Michael’s assistance to hurl myself off the couch. I’m hot all the freaking time. (That sweater I wore today? BAD CHOICE. I was thisclose to stripping naked in the middle of the restaurant. Probably not the best move.)

The other part of the denial is that once he’s here, suddenly I’m a parent to TWO children. Yes, NO DUH. What did I think was going to happen? But woo-boy. Is that a whole new ballgame. Sure, we’ll get used to it. But that unknown factor is chilling. (Oddly, one of my biggest questions is how am I going to shower with two kids? Right now Owen sits in the bathroom and reads books or plays with kid-friendly items like tampons. (What, it’s not like I’m using them right now.) I have no idea how it’s going to go when there’s a distracting little baby sitting  there with eyes and nostrils that just scream for a toddler to stick his finger in them.)

This post is such a brain dump. Too Long; Didn’t Read version:

This kid is coming in two months, my baby is going to be the big kid and I’m overheating. Send ice cream and a wine that I can crack open July 15th.