ready or not

like it or not, this baby’s coming. soon. like really f*cking soon…like in less than 24 hours. and even after 12 days of lying on my ass in the hospital waiting for this day to come, i’m still not remotely close to being ready…

what’s wrong with me? well to be honest, i’m scared. what if this thing’s not cooked enough in here to come out yet? he’ll only be 36 weeks on thursday. that’s still considered to be premature (though of course i know lots of babies who were born much earlier and are fine) and i’m not thrilled about having a baby in the NICU. i wanna at least be able to hold the lil sh*t…jeesh.

then i’m a lil nervous about the whole c-section thing. clearly i haven’t bled to death yet, but don’t worry, there’s still a chance of it happening on the operating table. the doc told me it would go in this order: blood transfusion, then removing my uterus (for a hysterectomy), then coma, then croaking. i dunno about you, but that doesn’t sound like a very fun thursday morning.

although i gotta say it might not be that bad to slip into just a teensy-weensy coma for a few minutes. a) i’d probably get a great blog post out of it, and 2) maybe puddn would appreciate me a lil more if i was a goner. then again, he’d probably be too busy planning a celebratory hot tub party. d*ckhead.

but the thing i’m most afraid of is having 2 freakin’ babies. i know, lu’s a big-girl now—or so we tell her—but let’s be real here, if the kid still sh*ts in a diaper, that means she’s still a baby.

and now i have to bring home a newborn and start the entire process all over again…the sleepless nights, the fear of SIDS, colic, more sleepless nights, breastfeeding, pumping…dear god, i have to start pumping again. okay, i’m officially starting to freak my sh*t.

what the hell were we thinking?

seriously, i can barely handle having 1 kid, and my stinky’s a lil angel. lord knows this new baby’s clearly a troublemaker—and how can he not be when he’s a freakin’ clancey boy? oy. and vey.

and top on of all that, i’ve become an idiot. seriously. puddn always says that when we met, i was really smart…then asks me why i’m such a dope now. and i have no idea what happened, but for once, he’s right. i’m a complete moron.

like a few weeks ago, i took stinks to my doc appointment, and afterward, i stuck her in the carseat, gave her a snack, and off we went home. a few minutes later, she started giggling like crazy, saying, “hiiiii mommy!” i turned around, and there she was, bouncing around in the backseat. jaysus, i hadn’t even buckled her in the carseat…i pulled over and started bawling. how on earth can i take care of 2 kids when i can’t even handle 1? omg, i’m so f*cked.

and on top of everything else, i don’t even like newborns. so what if i don’t love this kid as much as i do my marinky? i mean, there’s absolutely no way in hell i can…i’m totally (yes, i know, a lil weirdly) obsessed with my sweet girl. so i’m sorry, new kid, you’re screwed.

plus, i’m pissed at the lil guy for being such a gigantic pain in my ass from the very beginning. with stinks, i had a dreamy, perfect pregnancy. this one was the exact opposite—a total sh*tshow: IVF, bleeding, placenta previa, bedrest, bleeding, hospital bedrest, bed pans, more bleeding and now a friggin’ c-section. it’s horsesh*t i tell you. if an adult was ever this much of an asshole to me, i would’ve punched him in the face by now.

i asked my nurses last night if anyone’s ever gotten drunk in the hospital after a c-section. cuz i’m thinking ‘bloody placenta marys’ all around.