Ready

I'm so very ready to have this baby. Not in the "my feet are swollen and I can't stand being pregnant for one more minute" sense. In the "I love the smell of Dreft and I can't wait to count her fingers and toes" sense. I did Lia's first load of laundry last Thursday. The tiny snaps from her onesies were banging out a cadence on the inside of the dryer. I looked at Doug and smiled fondly. I remembered that sound from nearly three years ago, when Daniel was little and still wore nothing but one-piece outfits.

I'm over-the-top excited to meet my baby girl. I'm looking forward to making new memories with her. I'm overwhelmed with a new sense of love I've never felt before - the opportunity to witness siblings bonding for the first time. Being an only child, this is all completely uncharted territory for me.

I've already warned Doug that I'm probably going to lose control in the OR. The moment I hear her cry and know that she's safe, my emotions and fears and apprehension are all going to come out in a flood of hysterics. I know it. I can see the tide coming in, but I don't care. I know too many people who have lost babies in the last 40 weeks. I know too many people who have been through horrible, nightmarish experiences in the last 40 weeks. I've seen too much hurt and heartache and loss. I know that the moment I lay eyes on my daughter, it's all coming out. There's no stopping it. But by God. I'm ready.