Since I'm not working right now, I have a great deal more free time on my hands. I'm still trying to be productive and clean/keep house while getting the baby's room ready, but there's still down time. This week I started reading other blogs and even followed a few. I hope at some point I can establish connections/friendships with other mommy bloggers - I am well aware that my blog isn't super interesting right now to people that aren't directly related to the events going in my pregnancy, but I expect that to change when baby girl gets here. I'm sure the subject will shift from the normal going ons of my life to hers. I'm okay with that.
I love reading about the experiences other mothers are having with their kids, though- on some level I hope that hearing about some of their struggles will better equip me to deal with the newness of parenthood in three and a half months.
108 days to go. That blows my mind. The closer we get, the more I am aware that we are not ready! Her room is not anywhere close to being ready- we're still using it as storage until we have a chance to move the rest of our winter things to my in-law's attic. The only thing in there that is baby related at all is a twin sized bed (for visitors or myself to sleep in when she moves from our room to her own) a few outfits hanging in her closet and a box of newborn diapers. That is it. Beyond the physical preparedness, though, I feel overwhelmed by the changes that are coming. The focus of my entire life is shifting to this tiny little person inside of me. She is the subject of the vast majority of my thoughts, and every little plan I make now is with her in mind. I hope that I am able to take care of her the way she deserves to be taken care of. If my daughter loves me even a fraction as much as I love her, it will be more than enough. I am still getting used to those words.
I've heard stories all my life about the love parents have for their children, and up until this point I thought I understood. It was like my love for my own parents, my siblings, or for my grandparents. And it is, in a way. I love her just for being who she is.
I even likened it to the love I have for my husband- he is my family and when I imagined having children in the past, I always thought of the depth of the love I have for my husband as comparison for how much I would love my child. He is my soulmate, my best friend. I love being around him, I love continuing to get to know him, and I love the journey we're on together.
But it is so much more.
I have always kind of been the protective mama hen to my 5 siblings and I still am. I fought for them when we were kids on a fairly regular basis. Make no mistake, I am still protective of them, even as they transition, one by one, into adulthood. I feel a sense of responsibility for them, and pride at watching them grow and take their own paths in life. I love them more than life and would sacrifice myself for them without giving it a second thought.
But my love for my baby- there is a savage fierceness to it that I have never experienced and didn't expect. Kind of a primal maternal bond, even though I have yet to hold her in my arms. I get the mama bear reference now. Everything I do, everything I am from this point forward plays a supportive role to the most important job I've ever had - mother.
I know I say this a lot, but it's only because it's still as true now as it ever was. I am so thankful that her daddy is who he is. I am so thankful that she has the grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc., that she has.
We may not have a lot of money, but Carys is being born into a wealth of loving family.