Ready, But Not Ready

People keep asking me how I feel as I get closer to my due date (and the bigger my baby bump becomes). My answer to a relatively simple question is, naturally, somewhat complicated.

I feel both ready and not ready at the same time.

Last week, before we knew my mom’s flight had been canceled, my sentimental self lamented that this was our last night as a family of four. Even though the babies haven’t arrived yet, with my mom coming into town, Sly’s parents visiting shortly thereafter, and then, of course, the twins, we would never have a night like this again. Sly told me that I don’t do well with change, which is true. I don’t. Even something as predictable as leaves changing or blossoms blowing away in the wind is enough make me feel wistful. I get sad and elegiac with every goodbye.

We didn’t do anything to commemorate our “last” night. We ate pizza and watched Netflix like we normally do.

From the outside, it certainly feels as if we’re ready as we have been getting as ready as we can for the twins arrival. We hosted a small baby celebration and had another virtual baby shower with our friends from around the world. We stocked up on pretty much everything we *think* we’ll need, at least for the first few months. We have been over birth plans a million times. We spent the last month cleaning, organizing, and cleaning some more. We bought new toys and treats for Max and Rufus for when the twins arrive. All I really have left to do is finish packing my hospital bag, although even then I feel I’m okay with my half-assed attempts at trying to determine what I’ll need since we live about five minutes from the hospital and (Sly) can easily run back to get anything I missed.

I’m really excited to meet to meet the twins, but also — and I can’t believe I’m even saying this — I’m a bit sad that I won’t be carrying around these babies anymore, and in all likelihood, won’t ever be pregnant again. Not that we’re ruling it out, but realistically, we’ll probably have our hands too full with the twins — and our furry babies — to even contemplate more kids. (Plus, what if we get another set of twins? Probably not likely, but…what if?) The fact that this stage of my life is probably also over only adds to my sentimentality.

My due date, which was originally mid-May, was originally pushed back to mid-April (like in a few days?!), but now we’re looking at early May, provided I don’t go into preterm labor, (and I hope to God I don’t because I do NOT want to deliver at the creepy Russian psycho ward hospital that has the NICU). That means I have just over two weeks (!?!?!!?) or so left of this — whatever this is. Quiet moments with our kitties, a schedule that belongs to only us, the twins kicking furiously in my stomach, and anxious and excited anticipation of the twins’ arrival.

Some days I feel more than ready.

But most days I just want to hold on to this time in my life forever.