Ready or Not

So ever since that fateful New Year’s Eve when I peed on a stick and that sneaky second line appeared and I cried like my life was over, I’ve been wracked with worry.

Not that I wasn’t a little bit happy about it. Megan immediately tried to reassure me that Scott would stand by me and would be a good dad, and the first thing I did was turn to her and tell her that doubting him had never, would never, cross my mind. Four and a half years and an engagement ring had seen to that.

But this is going to change everything.

For starters, I don’t know a damn thing about taking care of a baby. I don’t know when to go to the hospital, how to change a diaper, when I should start to feed it human food. And don’t even get me started on if I have a boy. That would be a disaster.

And of course I’m going to get fat (which might actually turn out to be kind of cool because I can eat whatever I want and be as big as a house and nobody cares).

But do we even have the money for a kid? Not only do we have to buy a crib, a stroller, and a bunch of other stuff, but then there’s daycare. Generally speaking, this kid is going to suck me dry for the next 18 or so years.

Jesus, the next eighteen years. It’s not like I was a big partier or anything, but I did want to travel. We didn’t even have a chance to be newlyweds. We’re going straight into being a family. Oh, God, that is a weird word: family.

Now that I think of it, my family is going to be a huge pain in the ass. They’re already so proprietary and everyone goes straight for my stomach without asking. And they’re gonna want to babysit all the time, which is great, but I get the feeling that I might have a little separation anxiety (not to mention, I don’t trust Grandma not to drop the baby).

How am I going to have a newborn and go to school? I don’t want to drop out, but an infant is like a full time job in and of itself.

What if I don’t even survive the labor? I mean, delivery is like hell on earth, right? There’s blood and needles and the possibility of a c-section or even a stillborn…

Plus my mom is crazy! What if I end up like her and drive my kid crazy? Ughhhhhhh.

And I have so much to look forward to: nausea and morning sickness, exhaustion, fixation on food, swollen and tingly feet, leg cramps, acne, heartburn, back pain, trouble breathing, a tiny bladder, feeling flushed…Seriously, why do women ever do this twice?

And then I stop and think, “But none of this matters, because, ready or not, here you come.”


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