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So many questions. So little time.

Ah, babies. They generate so many questions: How was it made? How will it come out? What will it do when it gets here? What do I do when it gets here? How will it change my life? These are questions even grown-ups wrestle with.

But can you imagine being 4, witnessing your mommy expanding exponentially, wondering what the heck is actually going on in there when you see the ripples and hear Mommy giggling (or sighing/moaning/whining) about it? You can barely imagine sharing your toys with your cat, let alone a whole other person -- so you know this is going to be very hard but you'll do your best because it will make Mom and Daddy happy. You keep hearing about how you have to be a big brother, how you have to learn how to get your own sneakers on, how you will have to set a good example. You wait and you wait and you wait, then they tell you that Mommy has to go to the hospital for a few days, where the doctor will help her get the baby out. Hmm. But they still haven't told you, how did the baby get in there, anyway?

Oh boy.

Last night we tried to address some of Sweet Boy's questions about how the baby comes out (we still haven't come clean on how baby got in there -- I've chalked it up to "God knew we wanted another child" and left it there for now). Because he was a C-section delivery and because we've scheduled a C-section for next Wednesday, I took out the photos from Sweet Boy's first moments of life. I wanted him to see Mommy smiling on the strange table and Daddy with the silly hat and mask on. I wanted him to see himself screaming hello to the world, the nurses wiping the goop off him, his family smiling and cooing when they first met him. Of course he loved these photos. We looked at them at least four times. We talked about belly buttons. We talked about how cold and bright the world is when you're a brand new baby. (Yes, we even talked about how new-baby penises look different than big boy penises.) And we talked about how now he'd prefer a baby sister to a baby brother.

Then we talked about how Voo (my dad) will stay with him while Mommy's having the baby, but Daddy will come home every night to be with him while Mom's in the hospital. And I told him I'd call him every day and send him pictures from my phone. We counted on my fingers and on the calendar how many days until Baby Day. When he went to bed, he said he couldn't wait until "his baby" gets here, and he drifted off to sleep as I laid there next to him, tracing my finger along his perfect nose and cheeks, wondering how that smooshy-faced screaming red infant turned so quickly into this smart, happy, overflowing-with-love boy child.

Around 1 a.m. Sweet Boy padded into our room carrying his beloved Jodi Bear. "Can I just snuggle for a little while, Mommy?" Sure, buddy, let's snuggle; I can think of nothing I'd enjoy more.

At 6:30 this morning, I woke up to a tiny tapping on my shoulder, and a bright-eyed little boy with a hopeful-fearful-happy-anxious expression on his face, an expression like Christmas morning mixed with first day of school. "Mommy, is today the day the baby's coming?"

So again, we counted on our fingers how many days until Baby Day.

"Can you tell me again, Mommy, how is the doctor going to crack your belly open to get the baby out? I'm scared it's going to hurt you."

It's quite possible that none of us will sleep well for the next 6 nights.


  1. This made my heart hurt in a good way. A very good way.

  2. One more sleep till baby! So excited for you all!


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