Goodbye & Hello, baby

It has happened--my due date is near. I don't know where all nine months of my pregnancy went, but suddenly I have a hospital bag (mostly packed) and an infant car seat (not installed but available) sitting on my landing. I'm due February 9, I'm refusing to carry that long, but with a husband out of town until January 31, I can only hope to be slightly early. I've politely told God and my unborn child that if his appearance could be February 2 that would be ideal for me.

In all the excitement and anticipation of having another baby everything has been a push to be "ready" for him: all necessary equipment purchased or borrowed, moving Elias out of his crib to make space for the next little one, finishing house projects, etcetera...and now with most of my "to do" list scratched off, I was hit with a deep form of panicked sadness. Suddenly the birth of another baby in my house, in my life, in my heart meant somehow that I get less of Elias. Perhaps that's not entirely true, but it's my feeling and my fear for now. Somehow, during the passing of these nine months my first baby has become a little boy. He's talking back to me and playing monster trucks. He's potty trained and sleeping in a big boy bed (ok, this is still a transition, but nevertheless...). He's testing boundaries and pushing his independence...and I'm praying that I didn't miss the transition to this place in my mad rush to be "ready." When he took my finger in his sweet little hand to walk downstairs to bed last night I felt irreparably torn: how do I share? I don't know how to share myself with another one who needs me just as much. I can't shake the feeling that sharing me with another child equals missing out on things with Elias. He's been my only focus and the reason I do everything I do every day for the last 21 months. The fear in this change has never been so palpable for me as it is now, in these final days of our one on one time. I'm desperately trying to absorb every moment we spend together these days, even when he has me exhausted and frustrated. I want to take mental pictures of who he is right now and hold onto him forever because I feel (perhaps illogically) as though I'm saying goodbye to him in welcoming his brother. I don't even have a nice wrap-up for these thoughts and fears because I'm still very much wrestling with them. So, this is me, signing off from my place of illogical fear and looming unpredictable change. Thanks for hearing my crazed mother's heart.