We're now four days before your birth mother's due date and the anxiety has now found a permanent home in the bottom of my stomach. Our lives have become a series of uncertainties as we wait for the inevitable change that you will bring into our lives. In the meantime, I find myself counting down each final event as it happens. Last Friday, for example, your father and I went on what will probably be our last double date with Aunt Beth & Uncle Tom for a while. Going grocery shopping brought about yet another revelation: you will probably make me a mommy before the milk I just bought expires. Wow.
For now, I jump out of my skin every time the phone rings. Every day I go to school, I wonder if it's the last day I'll teach before I go on family leave for the rest of the school year. Every meal your father and I eat, I wonder if it's the last quiet meal we'll have together.
Going to bed isn't without its uncertainties, either. I've been sleeping with this bonding doll that your Auntie Melissa bought for you. I'm hoping that it will become your favorite toy. It's blue and oh so soft! It's called the twinkle baby:
At any rate, the "what ifs" strike the most at night. I wonder, "What if tonight is the night I get the phone call?" "What if I don't hear the phone or Jay sleeps through it?" The hardest "what if" is the most painful one. "What if the birth mom changes her mind?"
I know, in my heart, that if the birthmom DOES change her mind then the baby she's carrying isn't you. I want so badly for this child to be you, my precious son or daughter, but adoption is never a set in stone thing. For now, however, this birthmom has remained firm in her decision to selflessly place you into our homes forever, and that's the decision I'm comforting myself with each night. I can't imagine a more gracious and loving act then the one she's planning on doing in the near future: giving your father and I the opportunity to be parents to you. I look forward to sharing our lives with her as you grow up, and plan on making good on my promise to keep the adoption as open as she's comfortable with.
To get back to the present, we did receive a phone call today from our social worker today. Your birthmom had an ultrasound yesterday, and apparently you're quite big and down low. This is a good sign, little one, because that means you're preparing to make your way into the world!
As we wait for you to make your big debut, I'm continuing to drive your father absolutely bonkers with my neurotic desire to get all of my ducks in a row. I think it's my own way of dealing with the uncertainty of the future. I can't control what will happen in the hospital, I can't control how our family will expand, but I can control how I prepare for everything. I'm obsessed with getting things just so so that we don't hit any major snags along the way:
- The overnight bags have been packed for a month: one for you (complete with both gender-appropriate "going home" outfits) and one for us
- The backpack is filled with every electronic device known to man: video camera, digital camera (when your dad's not stealing it), laptop, DVD player...you get the idea. I've also had the foresight to pack their respective chargers.
- The people taking care of our dogs (Travis & Lisa) have been given house keys and put on high alert. I've also given Auntie Beth the full lecture about the dogs should Travis & Lisa not understand the detailed instructions I've left on the laundry room door.
- Your nonni graciously agreed to bring snacks to keep us well fed during our hospital/hotel stay. She's in Sacramento for the next few days, but she brought the snack bag & ice chest with her, just in case she needs to meet us in the hospital on short notice. Hmmm...like mother, like daughter?
- The lists of guests to be invited to your baby showers have been written out and addresses collected.
- A few pacifiers and a bottle have been sterilized and are ready to be used.
- Car seat is installed, ready to be checked by the CHP (tomorrow at 2:45, thankyouverymuch).
- I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I've got a typed list hanging on the nursery door of things we're supposed to remember before we go to the hospital. I even used the scrapbook machine to spell out "Remember" in big letters on top of the list. Someday, I'll probably add it to your baby book and we'll all get a big laugh at how insane I was during this time!
I know, I know...I'm a little type-A. And by a little, I mean a lottle. I'm finding myself doing the same things I did in school to earn the good grades that I did: I'm studying up (three baby books along with several adoption books) and am in severe danger of becoming a veritable walking, talking book. In short, little one, I'm doing what I do best: studying my way to becoming a mother.
And nothing, little one, nothing I read or do is going to completely prepare me for how you're about to rock our world. Be gentle, kiddo--your mom and dad are completely new at this!
Much love,
your mommy
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