After laughing at myself and taking a deep breath I proceeded to think about how different our life will be in just ten short weeks. Somehow, when I was pregnant with Jacob it never occurred to me to worry about whether I’d be a good mother. So, as Jacob’s birth neared I was overly excited about the opportunity that lay ahead, not at all worried about whether or not I could rise to the challenge.
Of course I worried about the many things that could potentially harm my baby; illness, tumbles, household dangers, accidents and more, but I never worried that I couldn’t handle the sleepless nights, the countless diapers, walking the halls at all hours, etc. Now all of a sudden I was hit by the realization that not only could I not focus completely on Jacob’s health and safety, I wouldn’t be able to dedicate myself solely to the well-being of this child either. What if I went shopping and Jacob tried to hide? Which baby do I watch? How can I chase a toddler while holding a screaming infant? How do I explain to Jacob that we can’t go in the store yet because the baby wants to nurse in the car first? What do I do if they’re both sick at the same time? Which one do I cuddle with all night? What if only one is sick? Can I really spend the whole night in Jacob’s bed with him (or he in mine) if there is another child to attend? All of a sudden this wave of panic hit me and I suddenly felt what I’d been told to feel the first time around.
What have I gotten myself into?
Interestingly enough, the baby chose that moment to wake up and kick with a vengeance. It was as if she/he knew what I was thinking and either wanted to reassure me that we’d all be all right or, as my mind was thinking, wanted to make me focus on it for a while. (Perhaps I shouldn’t have considered myself out alone after all?) It’s true. In my mind Jacob is a reality while this baby is somewhat far off. For example, the other day I was daydreaming and looking at new house plans in a magazine. I noticed that most of the time in a three-bedroom house, the master bedroom is the largest, then the other two follow suit, one being larger than the other. I just assumed that the next largest bedroom would belong to Jacob and the baby would be forced to take the smaller. Yes, this makes sense now, but how about a few years down the road? My motherly “fairness” instinct is obviously broken!