Whoa...

Okay really...this pregnancy can slow down now. It seems like yesterday we were flying to Chicago and I was scared to death of getting sick on the plane. It felt like it took forever to get to the 2nd trimester, to get past the insane exhaustion and morning (ALL DAY) sickness. The 20 week ultrasound could not have come fast enough. I swear, those days were the longest ever. But now...it feels like the days and weeks are slipping past me double time.

You would think this would be a great thing! I should be happy that the time is going by so quickly, that all the pains of pregnancy, the back pain, the heartburn, the hips that just don't seem to work anymore, is all coming to an end. Somehow, I'm not. It's not that I WANT to be uncomfortable. I'm actually very ready to be done with all of that. The problem is...I don't feel ready.

10 weeks. I only have 10 weeks left of what I'm realizing is the "easy" task of watching one child every day. And that's if I make it to my due date! It could be less! Obviously, any 2 year old is sure to be challenging. But I KNOW this 2 year old. I know what makes him happy, how he works, his schedule. I don't know this little person that is currently wedged between my hip bones and using my belly button as a target for her kicks and punches.

It's not just the unknown territory of being a mother of two that scares me...it's what I know is coming. Most importantly, the PAIN. Labor was scary. It was painful. Yes, it was worth it, but that doesn't mean I'm looking forward to it. If I could get the epidural now I just might. I've already informed the nurse that I want it as soon as possible, not just for the pain, but because my labor progressed so quickly after it was in place.

My other concern - the consuming, overwhelming, life draining beginning that Brenden and I endured together. I was a mess. I was sad. I cried a lot. And it didn't go away in a few weeks. I'm hoping being better prepared, knowing the signs and how to ask for help, will get me through it. This time I'm not going to push my self so hard on breastfeeding. I'm not going to beat myself up if it doesn't work out. (And Tim won't, either. Not that he was mean to me or anything, but I think he'll be the first to hand me a bottle and tell me it's okay.)

So time, please slow down a bit. I need these last few weeks to wrap my head around things, to get her room finished, to remind myself that I should try to savor this time. Savor the moments with my first born, wonderful kiddo. To marvel at my big old belly and the fact that I'm growing another person in there. To just RELAX. Because, from what I understand, relaxing is not something I'm going to get to do ever again once Lauren is here.