Twenty-seven weeks in and I’ve been surprised with how calm and uneventful things have been. In the early months I was overflowing with emotion but in the weeks since it’s been more of a slow and subtle takeover. And strangely felt really good. We’ll soon have a third person joining our little family, and the imaginings of a baby crying in the next room or crawling throughout the house are becoming more vivid. I’m waiting with bated breath for the terrible pregnancy monster to pay me a visit, but have let myself believe that maybe I’ll get to be one of the lucky ones – this time around anyway.
In every pregnancy book hiding amongst the chapters about swollen feet and morning sickness are a few pages (and sometimes a few sentences) about the husband’s role and the preparation “dos and don’ts”. Similar to the physical woes of pregnancy, husband behavior seems to run the gamut of good, bad, & evil, and admittedly I was unsure of what I’d be getting. It’s a huge adjustment for a couple and though we were not without growing pains, I really could not have asked for a more supportive partner. Every week he’s been diligent about readying our house for the baby – new carpets and floors to replace the worn ones we inherited moving in, putting together furniture, covering all of the drafty windows with curtains, and constantly scouring the web for odds and ends – a kids mp3 player & speakers, stuffed animals, even a tire swing for the backyard. Many an evening I’ll find him sitting alone in the glider in the nursery – clutching one of the baby’s items or rearranging furniture. “I don’t know how I’m going to pry myself away from him,” he said yesterday, “I can’t seem to stay out of the nursery and he’s not even here yet!” My heart melts.
We talk nightly about what’s to come and preparing our “storm shelter” for the baby tornado that’s about to whip his way into our lives. The usual naïve young couple chatter about keeping a regular date night and making sure that we stay a team – “we can’t let the frustration drive a wedge in our relationship”! I’m sure we’re not the first to be so idealistic, and won’t be the last to be proved wrong on many accounts, but I can’t help but feel like things are going to be (better than) okay.