A Faint but Distinct Line

Throughout the past 35 weeks, this has been the usual conversation between my sister and I :

Her: "you're going to have a BABY..."

Me: " i know...."

Her: "you're going to be a MOM... with a DAUGHTER..."

Me: "i know....."

Like I could somehow possibly forget about the small person breakdancing in my uterus during my busy day of waddling to the bathroom, or stuffing my face. But the other night, with such a short time left until Hailey's debut (that's what I'm call it) the coversation went something more like this:


Her: "you're going to have a BABY..."

Me: "i know..."

Her: "your going to be a MOM.. with a DAUGHTER..."

Me: "i know..."

Her: "but you don't have like... anything. do you even have bottles?"

Me: "i have stuff... i have a crib and diapers and.... boobs"

And that's when it hit me.... I'M HAVING A BABY! I'm going to be completely responsible for another human being, not only that I have to wipe SOMEONE ELSE's butt for at least two years! When people have asked me how I'm feeling now that her due date is fastly approaching, I always tell them that I'm just ready. It seems to be a generic but satisfying enough answer to the people who are mostly asking to either A. be nosy or B. ... well because what else can you really say to an uncomfortable woman??And I've realized that there is a faint but distinct line between being ready and being prepared.

I'm not prepared to have leaky breasts, or clogged milk glands. I have no idea how to properly burp an infant. The thought of infant CPR scares the begeezus out of me. I'm not prepared for her first allergic reaction, which I pray to God is not to pet hair. I'm not prepared for her half hour cry sessions that will knowingly result in me calling my mother and crying to her for just as long. I have never been good at correctly buttoning the footed pajamas, and I am terrified to trim her delicate baby nails.

HOWEVER....

I'm ready to meet her and feel that motherly love and attachment that's supposed to burst out of your chest the moment you hear her first cry, or feel her warm, damp fingers curl around yours. I'm ready to see if she has my flat nose, or Lee's kind eyes and if her feet are truly going to be as large as the sonographer says they will be. I'm ready to feel that narcissistic pride of knowing there is another piece of me walking the earth.... I am also definitely ready to be 40 pounds lighter.