Single Digit Panic
Last night I was lying on the couch watching the Olympics with Mark (we got an antenna for our tv so we could watch the games) and I just randomly asked, "What week am I in? How much longer do I have?" I quit counting the weeks around December and only occasionally think about it. Mark guessed around 10 weeks, and I got up and looked at the calendar to see if that was right. He was close. It's actually less than 10 weeks - it's 9 weeks and a few days until Gwennan is due.
I woke up at 2 AM and it hit me that we're really in countdown now. NINE WEEKS. We're in the single-digits now. I only have NINE WEEKS to get ready for Gwennan. NINE WEEKS until life as I know it is gone forever. I started to panic. I don't have a clue what I'm doing. What do I know about babies? NOTHING. Will I be happy, or miserable? Will Gwennan be easy or difficult?
I've already felt pretty crappy about my housewifing abilities this past week (since quitting Nissan). You would think I would be able to get a lot more done than I have. My house looks like a wreck, I suck at getting dinner together every night, things just aren't getting done. It's depressing.
So I feel a little panicky, a little overwhelmed. I'm scared to death, mainly.
Sweet Mark, he's the best husband in the world. I told him as we were lying in bed this morning about my 2 AM panic attack, and he rolled over to hold me and said, "We're in this together, okay?"
I woke up at 2 AM and it hit me that we're really in countdown now. NINE WEEKS. We're in the single-digits now. I only have NINE WEEKS to get ready for Gwennan. NINE WEEKS until life as I know it is gone forever. I started to panic. I don't have a clue what I'm doing. What do I know about babies? NOTHING. Will I be happy, or miserable? Will Gwennan be easy or difficult?
I've already felt pretty crappy about my housewifing abilities this past week (since quitting Nissan). You would think I would be able to get a lot more done than I have. My house looks like a wreck, I suck at getting dinner together every night, things just aren't getting done. It's depressing.
So I feel a little panicky, a little overwhelmed. I'm scared to death, mainly.
Sweet Mark, he's the best husband in the world. I told him as we were lying in bed this morning about my 2 AM panic attack, and he rolled over to hold me and said, "We're in this together, okay?"
posted by Donna-Marie at 2/23/2006 08:23:00 AM
1 Comments:
I suck at getting dinner on the table alot of nights as well. Face it, life is about now, not then. It is like God knows us and meant what he said about being a lamp unto our feet (after all he knew what high beams were, he could have said hi beams!).
When we jump, we learn God created us to fly.
You will be a wonderful mother, because that is what God created you to be on that day. So go paint that picture with YOUR style.
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