Last night, somewhere between the 2nd and 3rd time that I woke up to use the bathroom (and it was only 12:30- Oh my God I’m not going to miss this), insomnia set in so I naturally started thinking about things that have no place in my brain in the middle of the night. For instance, “I need to remember to tell my coverage at work to request security access to so-and-so system tomorrow.” I’m talking about very productive thoughts, here.
And then they started down the anxiety ridden path of what’s coming in the next few months in regards to Little Man. I’ve never been concerned with what comes after pregnancy but I guess now it’s hitting me that I am RUNNING OUT OF TIME. What if I need more burp clothes but I’m too tired to leave the house to get some? What if I don’t have time to wash his clothes? Those thoughts were my biggest worries until last night when I started to realize that I’m genuinely scared. What if something happens to Mini Me or me during labor? What if he gets stung by a scorpion? What do I do if he gets a fever in the middle of the night and I don’t realize it? These thoughts are so much more terrifying than trying to fit in another load of laundry into an exhausting day.
But then it hit me. Literally. Angel rolled over and his arm hit me. I’m not in this alone and if I don’t notice a fever in the middle of the night, Angel will. If I run out of diapers, one of us can run to the store while the other fabricates a disposable diaper out of paper towels and then we can laugh about our failure while we wipe poop off of the nursery room walls. I have no idea how to explain to a boy how to use the bathroom but you know who does? His dad. I don’t know how to play G.I. Joes, but neither does Mini Me so he’s not going to know that I’m doing it wrong until Dad does it right. This little boy is so lucky to have him as a dad and he doesn’t even know it yet.
So then I started thinking about just how lucky I am to have such a great husband! The first two years of marriage has already had some tough obstacles that we weren’t expecting but when things got tough, Angel knew just how to let me be the right amount of sad before he distracted me. While it drives me crazy that I’m always the one to clean the bathroom, the pool doesn’t appear to be growing anything and I know we don’t have a pool boy (because I’ve asked for one). And are 3 junk drawers a sign that we’ve finally made it or that we’re hoarders? The point is that I am so happy with my frustrating husband, dog who doesn’t always follow the rules, and kicking baby who makes me pee 4 times a night, that it feels like there’s no way that this can be my life. Do I really drive a mom-mobile with a car seat in it to take my dog to the groomer? I would never be able to own my own house with an adorable nursery for my son if it wasn’t for the love of the guy laying next to me.
And then Angel started snoring and I thought “Wow, that’s annoying. But I’m still pretty lucky.”