If my baby comes on her due date (which I know she won’t, but she’ll probably come around her due date) I’m one month and 3 days away from becoming a mom. A real mom. I’ll have to wake up in the middle of the night and take care of her. I should probably stop my mom’s dogs from licking her like they try to lick everyone else who comes into their house. I won’t be able to give her good nutrition by making sure I have good nutrition. I’m going to have to keep my huge cats from snuggling up with her and potentially suffocating her.
Oh my God, I’m gonna be responsible for a helpless human being who can’t take care of herself. And I’ll be doing it alone! Sure, I have friends and family who want to help, but ultimately, this is my baby…my responsibility.
But on the other hand, in a month I can hold her and rock her. I’ll know what she looks like. I can look into her eyes and tell her how much I love her. In a few more months, she’ll be smiling at me. Maybe she’ll even be laughing at me. The future is scary. The future looks great.
