So Emotional – by Lisa Kelly

Whitney Houston sang “I get so emotional baby, every time I think of you… Ain’t it shocking what, love can do?”

My emotions are increasingly all over the map as the weeks roll by. Some days I can’t wait to be a mom again. Other days I question the sanity of bringing a child into today’s world. I even have days where I wish I’d have remained celibate until death (or at least used a solid birth control plan).

I buy baby girl clothes and imagine what she is going to look like in them. Will she have lots of hair like I did when I was born? Will she have big feet like her daddy and oh my Lord, if she does how will she ever look good in cute summer shoes? Then someone will talk about how sick all the children at daycare have been and I spin off into oblivion, imagining my child drowning in a petri dish full of the swine flu. And please don’t even telI me I’m cute, okay? Cute was somewhere long before my tummy stuck out past my boobs. I bounced right back into my old shape after child #1. That was almost 19 years ago. Will I be able to do it again? Is the elasticity gone from my skin? Will I be forever shoving the excess in Spanx? I don’t remember being this insane with my son so many years ago.

I even spent a few hours researching laundry soap. Is Dreft the way to go or is it simply a well marketed ploy to separate anxious parents from their dollars? My son was exposed to Tide with Bleach and never had a rash. He went to a public daycare and never had so much as a cold. He did have a severe bite from a rabid 2 year old but swimming in the petri dish filled with the bubonic plague didn’t hurt him. I was in worse health with him as well. I smoked like a chimney, drank my weight in Pepsi every day and cheeseburgers from the Dairy Queen were my primary food source. He was born a little early, likely due to the chimney smoking, but remains in good health to this day.

Yesterday we had our second visit to get a 3D ultrasound. I followed the instructions this time and made sure I hydrated extra well the two days prior and I drank a Pepsi half an hour before the appointment. Unlike the first one three weeks ago in which she tried to stay folded up like a lawn chair, my little one was a ball of energy for her second photo op. She rolled around, showed off her Tae Bo moves, turned her head side to side like a super model and even used her little hands to grab her knees and pull them into her chest. She flung her umbilical cord over her shoulder as if she were carrying a purse. It was the best hour of my life and a solid reassurance that everything is going to be just fine. I’ve been singing Whitney Houston ever since.