Incredulous Tip #8: Face your fear by rocking it to sleep while admiring its tiny toes.

Wow!  I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve had a chance to update.  In a way, typing this, I feel good about it because I’m down to only three weeks left.  Three weeks!  Yaaaahoooo!  The power surge from the big storm blew our internet battery thingy, but Frontier came today, and we’re back on!

Not much has happened, but so much has happened.  A friend of mine had her baby – a sweet little pea we’ll call C-Bear.  One thing I haven’t mentioned on here – I’ve been extremely fortunate to be going through this with someone else.  Granted, I’m a bit jealous that she’s already got her little one and I don’t, but still, I sometimes wonder what it would have been like to be all alone in this.  I’m sure I would have handled it just fine, but being pregnant the same time as someone you know is fab.

Anyways – so Nick and I are in the car on our way to meet the little tike for the first time.  I tell my friend we’ll be there between 3:00 – 3:30, and we leave a bit too early, so we stop for buy-on-get-on-free frappuccinos on the way.  (Yes, I know.  My diet has taken a nose-dive in these last weeks.  A dive into snack-size Rolo McFlurries, ice cold Coke, and baked goods.  I’m a terrible host for my little parasite, I know.  I’ve been healthy up until just a couple of weeks ago when I just couldn’t take it anymore.  I guess it’s officially a craving.  Especially the Coke.  Calm down.  I don’t drink it daily or anything.  Jeesh.)

We’re driving around the country side because I refuse to be early – now that they have a baby, they probably have enough of the unexpected to deal with – and my tummy starts a’ rumblin’.  Not the hungry kind.  The kind that makes you shift uneasily in your seat and sweat a little bit.  Then it hits me – I’m really, really nervous to see this baby.  Having shared this journey with my friend, I’m about to see – really see – the reality of what’s about to happen to Nick and I, and suddenly I don’t know if I want to go see her anymore.

We park in the drive.

“Ugh.  I don’t feel good.  I’m nervous.”  I admit to Nick.

“I think it’s probably the frappuccino.”

Maybe he’s right.

After some small-talk in the kitchen with the new mom and dad, we head to her room.  C-Bear.  She’s been such a little enigma for so long, and I’m about to see what came out of my friend’s belly.

It’s dark in the room.  C-Bear is asleep in her crib.  I see her through the rungs and momentarily wonder if it’s just a little pile of rags in there because whatever I see through there is too small to be a baby.   I cannot believe how unbelievable tiny she seems.  I mean ti-ny.  And she wasn’t born small or anything.  She was eight pounds, but it amazes me to see just how tiny eight pounds is.  And she’s so very sweet, and precious, and adorable, and cute that I just can’t believe it.

I don’t like babies.  Seriously.  I’ve never been a baby person.  Now that I’m having one, my outlook has changed slightly.  I now like some babies.  Ones that I know.  And little C is just so stinking cute laying there that I forget my anxiety completely.

Mom takes her out of the crib, and she wakes up.  I get to hold her and rock her.  I’m nervous, as I always am holding a baby.  My face gets hot and my arm is burning after several minutes because I’m so tense, wondering if she’s comfortable as her little eyes flutter open, look around, then close again, repeating this pattern the whole time.  She’s a very alert little newborn.  She’s so warm, and snuggly, and perfect that I wonder why I didn’t like babies before.

Her feet are so tiny.  So unbelievably tiny.  I can’t fathom that feet can exist in such small proportions – each little toe flexing and stretching with muscles that  must be microscopic.  I finally relax as I rock her in the chair and listen to how things are going so far.  They seem so calm.  Like they’ve been doing it for months already.  When C-Bear fusses, mom grabs her and puts her on a shoulder like it’s the most natural thing.  I don’t sense panic, anxiety, fear, self-doubt, or any of the things I’m positive will rule my brain once Will arrives.  Maybe they do feel it, but hide it really well.  Who knows

What I do know: I can’t wait to meet my baby.  Instead of further spawning my inner nay-saying, our visit to see C-Bear has had the opposite affect.  It makes me…excited.  If they can do it, surely I can too.  Neither C-Bear’s mom or dad are around babies a lot, but they seem just fine.  Relaxed even.  I can do this.  I can’t believe it!  I’m going to have a baby! 

We say our goodbyes and as soon as I hit the car I begin gushing to Nick how adorable C-Bear is, and:

“Oh-my-gawd-I-can’t-believe-we’re-gonna-have-on-of-those-can-you-believe-it?-I-feel-sooo-much-better-about-it-now-I-mean-don’t-you-aaahhh!! I’m so excited!

It’s the first time I feel excitement sans anxiety since the day my test came back positive.  I know myself, and the worry will set in again soon enough, but for now, I just smile and dream about my own little pile of rags with tiny toes, and wonder what he’ll be like.  I yearn to hold him for the first time – to see his little eyes open, and roll around sleepily like C-Bear’s, after he’s looked into mine.

I know I’m in for a lot of sleep deprivation, hormonal mood swings, and leaky boobs.  I know it’s going to be so hard that I’ll probably want to give up, cry, pull my hair out, or slap Nick in the face a few times.  But, I owe some props to little C-Bear for playing it so cool, and making me forget the bad stuff for just a few minutes.  You’re a cool cat.



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