As I write this, I am a week or two away from the birth of my second child. Until about a week ago, I wasn't really nervous or excited, but then we started sorting through the baby clothes and preparing the newborn stroller attachments, and I started to get pretty excited. Yesterday I pulled the crib down from the attic and somehow managed to remember where all the screws and joints go to put it back together. It's really starting to sink in now.
The roller coaster analogy is a bit clichéd, but it really does feel like being ratcheted up to the highest point in a roller coaster, with the potential energy at a maximum. The first time on this ride, it was really terrifying, not knowing what to expect, what it would be like to have a baby in the house, etc. I was honestly terrified we wouldn't be able to keep it alive for more than a week. And yes, my daughter was an It at first, a little crying, pooping creature we had to care for.
But this time, I know the rush and thrill of the ride. I know the bumps and parts where you really have to hang on tight, and the parts where you can let your arms dangle free. I know what an amazing thing it is to love one's own child, watching her grow from a naked, helpless little creature into a walking, talking, reasoning, smart and funny little girl on her way to becoming an amazing woman.
There are moments in life that feel like thresholds between chapters in a book. For me, the big ones have been moving away from my parents' house to a boarding school, graduating from high school, graduating from college, moving abroad, and our first child. They're clear ends of epochs to which you can never go back. Knowing that my life is going to change irreversibly very soon makes me tingle all over with excitement.
The anticipation is electric. I don't think I've ever been this nervous and excited about something: what my son looks like, if he's healthy, how his big sister will react to him, and just starting down the journey of parenthood again.
There's an awful lot of love waiting for you out here, son. See you soon!