1. Laundry. I’ll be honest: the reduce, reuse, recycle part of me prided itself on not having to wash an item of clothing after only wearing it once. And really, unless it was really, really smelly and stinky, I’d get away with being able to wear it at least 2 or 3 times. Insert large belly. Insert everything that gets in its way getting onto said large belly. And thus, clothes now need to be washed after only one use, but I hear this prepares me for babies and all the natural spit-up and blow-outs that will most certainly not allow me to let Lil’ Caramel wear that item more than once.
2. Food. I hear this is one of the most natural ones: no longer can I go until 2 or 3 in the afternoon on a cup of coffee alone. Now when I leave the house, my purse and work bag are packed with granola bars and apples and water bottles alike – thus preparing me for having snacks on hand at all times for the future LC. (Although if I were to adopt Bringing Up Bebe’s way of French parenting, I wouldn’t even allow my children to eat snacks in-between meals – and they’d be perfectly fine with it).
3. The sched. I’ve had two main professions in my adult lifetime: teaching and ministry. And with the latter in particular, I’ve prided myself on being able to set boundaries and learn to live within that “flexible schedule.” And so even though I knew the sched would have to be held even more loosely with a kiddo around, I didn’t realize the extent to which it’d have to be held loosely within pregnancy as well. I get tired. I can’t do what I always did, running around all day long, from the wee hours of morning till nighttime. Now I have to allow for more breaks in my day, for sitting more, for saying “no” more, and even for emailing past work hours so that I can be getting my allotted 40 hours a week in. I’m thinking this coming Tuesday is going to be my last full day, and I couldn’t be more ready for a break. [My goal was to work until I went into labor, thus texting our admin to start maternity leave then; insert grace. It’s time to have some time off, self. Amen.]
4. Cooking. Oh cooking. I was really beginning to love thee, with homemade meals a good four nights a week. And already I’m in survival mode. We’re dominating take-out and frozen food meal alike, lucky to get a home-cooked meal once a week now. I hope I’m exaggerating, but otherwise, all those cute little church ladies can start delivering the homemade casseroles STAT. We will gladly partake of your homemade goodness, because Lord knows I won’t be cooking come D-day.
5. The love. Most people say that the husband or partner doesn’t all the way embrace parenthood until the child actually arrives. And I get that, to an extent. But can I just say that I am more and more and more falling in love with the HBH (Hot Black Husband) by how he responds to the child inside now? I love that he reads to him every night, and sings him songs as well. I love that he places his hand on my belly when we’re driving, just to see if the little bugger is kicking. I love that he calls him by name and is already putting on his parental hat of caution and care in ensuring that mama’s safe and sound. And if this is what I’m experiencing now, how much more will I experience that upon seeing them both physically face to face? Mmm.
What else would you add to the list?0