So I accidentally just read someone's blog that I haven't read in a long long time and she just had a baby in March so I naturally read the birth story because, you know... pregnant. Now I'm way more excited than nervous. It's still an insane thought that a human life is going to magically escape my body and then grow up to be a member of society, but I'm starting to feel less like freaking out and more like being excited.
I'm excited to cuddle it and talk to it and play with him and sing to him. Him. Milo. Milo Fox Donner. Ooops. I'm totally not crying right now. And there's a stranger in my house fixing holes in my wall. Perfect timing, Ellen.
Milo Fox Donner. I've been saying his name for so long but it never meant the life inside me, just a future child I was going to have eventually, not next month. Every time a student would ask me "What are you naming him?" I would say "Milo. Milo Fox." and it meant that was a name. Now, it's his name.
The panicky part of me is still thinking that I have a lot a lot to learn. I never babysat infants, my youngest sibling was practically my age, and I always got nervous holding other people's babies, so that's where we're at right now. I'm sure a maternal part of me will magically appear and I'll learn all the things like swaddling and diapers and rocking, but until then I can just be excited. And read lots of informative articles on how to do those things. Thank you, internet.
It might also have helped that I made Sean give me a middle-of-the-night blessing a few days ago because I felt the worst heartburn of my life while sleeping and he made sure to include that I would be calmed and less nervous about the whole thing. What a good guy.
So now I'm going to relax and maybe take another nap and eat more food because my energy levels are low, it's too hot out, and my to-do list for the week has been shortened enough, thanks to a certain grandma of someone's.
Love, Miss Ellen
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