Parenthood Eve

This time tomorrow I'll be deflated, drugged, stitched, and a Responsible Adult. Is it too late to change my mind?

Someone asked me this afternoon if I was nervous. I'm something, but I'm not sure if nervous is quite it. I've certainly had that restless pacing around that comes with waiting for anything. Over the past few weeks I've had reflux so bad (wakes me up several times a night) that any cure, even at the point of a scalpel, seems welcome. I'm kind of dazed I suppose. We grow up seeing the whole birth thing as being quite unpredictable in terms of timing, so to know that at about 11am on the 17th we'll be parents is pretty weird. I'm looking forward to meeting the little 'uns.

Lofty, however, is quite anxious at this point. I think it's that situation of seeing someone else go through something difficult and being helpless to do much other than watch. He's a bit of a doer, so knowing that his biggest contribution tomorrow is going to be holding my hand and reassuring me is frustrating for him. I understand that completely, but I think he's underestimating just how important the hand-holding is going to be.

I'm getting a bit sentimental about the belly. I've been living with it and watching it grow for such a long time now that suddenly losing it is making me a little sad, despite how damned cumbersome it is. I've enjoyed rubbing it, feeling it move around... it's got a personality of its own, you know.

I think I'm feeling too reflective to be nervous. It's a big day, this last day of childlessness. At 37, tomorrow I finally have to grow up. *sigh* And so life wanders relentlessly on.