I’m having a baby. Big deal, right? Lot’s of people have babies and they don’t feel the need to blog about it. But you see, I’ve already had two babies. Fourteen and sixteen years ago, respectively. And now, at age 46, I’m having another one. The first question my OB asked was, “what were you thinking?” Clearly, I wasn’t.
Don’t get me wrong, I know this is a blessing. I know how hard it is for many people to conceive, and to not appreciate the fact that a human life is growing inside of me at this very minute would be beyond ungrateful.
But honestly, I thought I was done with diapers, children’s Motrin, teething, bibs, sippy cups, pediatricians, kindergarten parties, and basically all of that – and I was okay with it. I was getting ready for college tours and planning what I’d do with the extra bedroom. Guess we can figure that one out. Now I’m coming to terms with the idea of starting over. And it’s not all bad.