Cheryl and I have been looking forward to having another child for several years now. If all goes well, that wait will end sometime in the next eight weeks. Sometime, two months from now, we’ll be getting out of bed prematurely thinking: “what the hell were we thinking?” We’ll be sitting on the couch relaxing with a baby in our arms, enjoying a moment of peace unlike any other. We’ll be reintroduced to smells that have no business being in your home. We’ll be peeking through a crack in the door to check up on our sleeping child, our hearts skipping a beat not from fear, but bliss. We’ll be good and ready for the crying to finally stop. We’ll be in a rush for the camera when Beth finally agrees to hold her sibling for the first time. We’ll be pulling out our hair trying to get everyone ready in the morning before work. We’ll be happily doing our own thing throughout the house in those odd moments when life slows down.
I’m glad for the good and I’m a little scared of the bad, but I’m ready to take them both.