01 June 2008 - 10:55 PM

As of today, Tim and I have been together fifteen years. Kinda cute, huh? I was going to follow that with a sentence about my various major failings in this relationship, but you know what? That's so over, I'm over even flagellating myself. So.

I'm due to give birth in five weeks and the baby's room is not completely painted, the molding is not hung, and the armoire and dresser are not sanded or primered. The room is empty but for paint cans, tarps covering the wood floor, a stepstool, and detritus. I'm trying very hard not to panic. The paint fumes make me very sick, so I haven't been any help in that area, and I don't feel right bitching about the incredible amount of time it is taking to get this goddamned room ready, but I was promised it would be done by May 1, and as you can see by the timestamp on this entry, a full month has gone by without much progress.

Please don't let the baby come early, please please please, and PLEASE let Tim finish this damned room by this weekend. We have to go to Atlanta for that stupid wedding this weekend, although I keep waffling back and forth about making some excuse about my blood pressure and my doctor putting me to bed. Would that be wrong? I tell you what. If the baby's room is not ready by Friday, I won't go to the wedding. There. That's the answer.

I still cannot fathom the idea of Baby. During my two baby showers last weekend I kept thinking, these people are going to be so mad when it turns out I've been making this whole baby thing up! Is there really going to be a baby? Impossible! My stomach does not look poked out enough to house a whole baby. I haven't even HELD a baby since J&S were born, 17 years ago! I do not know what I am DOING, despite all the books and despite people saying to me, "Oh, it'll come to you." What if it DOESN'T come to me?? And what if my baby has something WRONG with him? That's the most terrifying thought of all. And I worry about it all the time. Normal, I know. But no less scary.

I don't know. I'm uncomfortable as hell, especially at night, but can't I just stay pregnant? No, I really want the baby. I keep trying to talk to him, but I can't seem to call him by the name we picked. I fear this indicates that the name is unsuitable for him. I prefer Fred. I don't like the name I picked for my son! What can I do? People have given us stuff with his name already on it, even though I TOLD them not to, that I reserved the right to change it at the last minute! I suppose as his mother I can call him whatever I want. He just doesn't seem REAL, I guess! Not until I see him, hold him, even though he is currently rolling around inside me right now, and even though I've seen impressively clear photos of him via ultrasound, I can't visualize him! I want to hold him. I'll feel like a mother then, right? Won't I?

God, I'm just a big ball of worry.

In other news, I am sick to death of urinating. I pee every 10 minutes, so help me.