On the Saturday before Christmas, David and I started getting ready for Baby. Not that we hadn't been doing little things here and there before then, but that was the day that we decided it was time to go out and get the travel system. Somehow, this was symbolic for us. We'd been avoiding getting this item as long as possible because we didn't want to rearrange the closet so we could figure out how to grunt and sweat and heave around this monstrous piece of baby gear, so we avoided. But we were getting ready to go to NC for Christmas, and people were starting to say things like, "Are you ready? You really should get ready. You never know...this baby could come any day." So we started some necessary panicking, and this is the result. We visited Babies R 'Us and got all the little things we figured we absolutely had to have before the baby arrives. David gets better and better all the time at putting things together. He got the stroller assembled and the infant carseat strapped in the car in only a little over an hour. I'm impressed. So I drove to NC and back with that baby seat in the back of the Camry, staring me the face, saying, "Here I am. There might be something riding in me before you know it." We played it better safe than sorry, I guess. No baby yet, and I'm glad. It's too early, yet.
At this point, I'm a month from my due date. (Long pause for emphasis). And I'm starting to do a little of the freaking out that the baby books say you'll do. David and I were driving back from NC, just enjoying our time together, and he wanted to stop at a rest stop to go to the bathroom. Now, I don't particularly care for rest stops. I think it's a waste of time to stop at them when you could go to a nice, climate controlled gas station with cleaner bathrooms and the possibility of snacks that don't come from an overpriced vending machine that you're standing in front of in the freezing cold. This is how I feel about rest stops, but I'm not prone to throwing a hissy fit about stopping at one. No big deal, right? Wrong. We stop at this rest stop, and by the time we are back in the car, I'm spitting mad because we stopped there. I know that it's stupid that I'm so angry, but I'm really, really angry. So I tell David that I'm angry, and that I know I shouldn't be, and that it certainly can't really be about the rest stop. Being the kind and gentle soul that he is, he understands that this isn't really directed at him, and he tries to help me figure out what I'm so upset about.
Rest stops are no big deal, I decide, but the thought of being a mother is beginning to scare me. I'm looking at myself and realizing that I'm an amazingly selfish human being. I greatly enjoy 8 hours of sleep a night, and I'm whiny when I don't get it. I like to read books, take long bubble baths, and do what I want when I want to do it. I spent a few days at Christmas with my 11-month-old nephew who is a poster child for adorable baby boys, but let's face it, he's a baby. He has lots of needs that have to be met all the time, and his parents are not guaranteed 8 hours of sleep at night, and sometimes they just can't fix it when he's grumpy. It's a lot of work being a parent. It requires tons of self sacrifice, 24-7-365 days a year. I took a few good looks at him with new eyes, and I felt like I was standing in line at boot camp with a big, mean drill sargeant standing in front of me, poking my chest with a menacing finger and saying, "You think you got what it takes? Huh? Drop and give me 20, soldier! And then spend the night in the sleep deprivation tank."
I want to meet my son. I am so thankful that God has given me the chance to become a parent. But I know that this is going to be the biggest, toughest thing that I have ever done. I am going to have to learn to die to myself in ways that I can't yet imagine. And that's a scary thought. I know me, and I know that I don't have it in me, in my own power, to be the parent I would like to be. I'm going to need some divine intervention to do even a halfway decent job at this lifetime of selfless giving thing. So when I post that this little guy is here, please start praying for me that I would be the God-honoring mom that I want to be that constantly puts someone else's needs before my own without feeling resentful about it. I need a brain and heart transplant. =)
2 comments:
Oh my.. since I am not preggy and have no kids I am not allowed to comment on this post.. since I don't know what I am talking about.. but.. I am the proud parent of a very active dog who was once a very active puppy.. I got slightly worried when we were driving home with him from NC for the first time.. this tiny little thing that I was now responsible for .. he would parish without me taking care of him.. and he was about to start destroying things in my house if I didn't train him properly.. I know this is really silly considering he is just a dog but.. it really felt good to have something to take care of. something that depended on me to be there and was happy to see me when I got home at night.. I think you are going to be just fine Anne .. but its a good think that you are recognising the things you need to change now.. you be able to ID them when they start showing up later on :)
You'll be surprised at how much you're willing to change. I love sleep, but Zach doesn't always allow much of it - I'm lucky to get 4 hours straight sometimes. The best thing I've learned is to sleep during the day when Zach sleeps. Newborns sleep a lot. I'm also a big planner, but I've learned to plan to do something during the day but not plan on a specific time. Before I go anywhere, Zach has to have been fed and had his diaper be clean for at least 10 minutes. It's amazing how many diapers I change in a span of 15 minutes (currently we run through about 100 diapers a week). If you get to feeling frustrated and David isn't there to help, call a friend who knows about babies and lives nearby to come and help (I call my mom, but I'm not sure how far away your parents live so friends work just as well). It's perfectly normal to want to scream along with the baby. I felt like it after staying up until 2 am with Zach just fussing and screaming and not wanting to calm down and go to sleep (this was after 3 days with no help because Dean had a 103 degree fever and was sleeping in another room so as not to expose Zach and me and we didn't want anyone else getting sick either). We ended up driving around the block about 5 times until Zach passed out. I was spoiled by my husband being at home the first 3 weeks after Zach was born. I certainly want Dean to have a job, but I spend the whole day alone with Zach sometimes, and there's only so much screaming I can handle after a while. I just pass Zach over to Dean as soon as he gets home. I feel slightly guilty, but everybody needs a little "me" time to stay sane. Zach loves his daddy and loves to be held by him, so it's not bad at all. You'll be fine.
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