No, the kid is not here yet.
No, I haven't exactly slowed down, but I have started to check out. I forget things that are unrelated to the baby. That conference call that I scheduled to settle some long-standing issue? Totally forgot about it and have yet to reschedule. Emails that I have been meaning to send? Still unwritten. And don't even get me started on thank you notes.
Yes, I've got baby on the brain and while I patiently await the arrival of my bundle of joy, I am more focused on doing baby laundry and building playpens; yet I am also plotting my post-birth life as if I can simply strap the kid into a car seat and keep doing what I do.
I am excited and terrified. I am tired and restless. I am all over the place. And this kid is due in less than 10 days!
For example, when I started this piece last week, I was feeling a little melancholy because I felt that no one cared about the bambino except for me. On other days, I do not feel that way, but not because I suddenly received an avalanche of attention--the moon is probably in a different position.
But one thing is for certain--my entire orientation is about to change. I am going to become a Busy Black Mama!
At some point in writing this piece I had intended to say something profound about what that change would mean, but honestly, I think the real point is that the closer I get to giving birth, I feel more distracted and unhinged. Distracted by things that should occupy my focus (like getting 'ready' for this kid) and unhinged by the reality that this kid is really coming. I had an ultrasound the other day and I looked up on the screen still in a state of disbelief because there was this huge head and these moving limbs, and not to mention this BELLY, and my mind is just blown.
At times I feel a foot glide under my ribcage or I watch my belly suddenly tilt lopsided and I wonder--who will this little person be? The other day when I was sifting through baby clothes, I wondered what will this kid think about that big fluffy snowsuit that an Auntie bought (and that s/he will have to wear, in April regardless of the temperature just because). Will the kid enjoy being toted around the city to everything that I want him/her to experience like jazz at the Sculpture Garden, the fireworks on the Mall, softball games to cheer on Daddy/Papi (what will we actually call RC), church on Sundays, to the zoo, to the park, to the beach, or on outings with various cousins without me? What about going to New York? Will Baby C be bilingual?
Are you sure God?