I am so keyed up! Saturdays and Sundays are my days to catch up on my sleep. I don’t mean sleep the day away. On weekends I look forward to getting eight hours of peaceful slumber, an additional two hours from the six to six and a half I get Monday through Friday. But this weekend, the last weekend without a little one to care for, I can’t sleep.
One week from now we will be in Ethiopia. Nine days from now we will have a baby! This baby has been nearly nineteen months in the making and the day to hold him in my arms is finally almost here. It’s funny though because I just can’t quite wrap my arms and mind around it. I’m terrified! I’m nearly as terrified as I was when I was pregnant with Brittany. The same thoughts are racing through my mind. What if I’m not a good parent? What if he gets sick? What if he stays up all night crying? Having a baby is expensive! I’m too old to be a parent, which is the opposite of what I said when carrying Brittany. The list goes on and on. But you know what, as much as I worried about all of these things, they worked out. They happened. That’s parenthood. But it was all okay.
Isn’t it ironic, however, that it’s not these thoughts that keep me up at night. It’s thoughts of I can’t wait to hold this baby. I can’t wait to love this baby. I can’t wait to care for this baby. I imagine reading to him and putting him to sleep in his crib. I imagine walking outside with him so he can hear the lovely birdsongs. I imagine walking around the neighborhood with him so he can take in all the greenness and fresh air and feel a breeze brush against his tender skin.
Our life is about to change drastically. Friday at work I kept thinking, this is the last weekend Greg and I will spend in our home as “just us”. The next weekend we spend in this home we will have a little one between us—literally. I know it won’t always be rosy. There will be sickness, tantrums, sleep deprivation, messiness, (much) extra work, etc. The list goes on and on. But these things are outweighed by the fact that we will be loving, nurturing and teaching a now-tiny person who will grow up one day to become someone who will change the world because he was given the tools and opportunity to do so. Not because of who we are, but because of who he is and because he was given a chance in life.
Hold on, Jackson. We’re almost there, son. I can’t wait to meet you!
One week from now we will be in Ethiopia. Nine days from now we will have a baby! This baby has been nearly nineteen months in the making and the day to hold him in my arms is finally almost here. It’s funny though because I just can’t quite wrap my arms and mind around it. I’m terrified! I’m nearly as terrified as I was when I was pregnant with Brittany. The same thoughts are racing through my mind. What if I’m not a good parent? What if he gets sick? What if he stays up all night crying? Having a baby is expensive! I’m too old to be a parent, which is the opposite of what I said when carrying Brittany. The list goes on and on. But you know what, as much as I worried about all of these things, they worked out. They happened. That’s parenthood. But it was all okay.
Isn’t it ironic, however, that it’s not these thoughts that keep me up at night. It’s thoughts of I can’t wait to hold this baby. I can’t wait to love this baby. I can’t wait to care for this baby. I imagine reading to him and putting him to sleep in his crib. I imagine walking outside with him so he can hear the lovely birdsongs. I imagine walking around the neighborhood with him so he can take in all the greenness and fresh air and feel a breeze brush against his tender skin.
Our life is about to change drastically. Friday at work I kept thinking, this is the last weekend Greg and I will spend in our home as “just us”. The next weekend we spend in this home we will have a little one between us—literally. I know it won’t always be rosy. There will be sickness, tantrums, sleep deprivation, messiness, (much) extra work, etc. The list goes on and on. But these things are outweighed by the fact that we will be loving, nurturing and teaching a now-tiny person who will grow up one day to become someone who will change the world because he was given the tools and opportunity to do so. Not because of who we are, but because of who he is and because he was given a chance in life.
Hold on, Jackson. We’re almost there, son. I can’t wait to meet you!
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