Eeks!

The nursery is finally done, and along with a sense of relief and happiness comes an overwhelming wave of anxiety and fear. In about one month I will have a little son bubbling and gurgling and looking like Winston Churchill. I'm officially freaked out.

Honestly, for 9 months I've felt strangely detached, unaffected, calm. It wasn't that I wasn't excited or grateful about the baby. I just felt apart from the whole situation, as if I was watching someone else on television going through the pregnancy.

But now I'm starting to feel sudden panic attacks. They're small, but they're real, and they're making my heart race with anticipation.

On the list of things I usually think about that trigger the attacks are (in no particular order):

1) The baby will have down syndrome.

2) The baby will be sick or have some sort of genetic abnormality.

3) The baby will be humongous and the labor will be terrifying.

4) The hospital stay will be horrible and will scar me for life.

5) I will have the worst post-partum depression in the history of the world.

6) I will never lose the weight and become morbidly obese and a shut in. They will have to bury me in a piano box when I die.

7) The baby will hate me.

8) I have no idea what I'm doing and will be a horrible mother.

9) My husband will be the fun parent. I will be the strict, resented parent.

I didn't say they were all reasonable fears, btw. I know I may be going insane and just picking things out of thin air to be afraid of. That's usually how I roll, even without pregnancy and a baby on the way.

10) Add that to the list: I will go insane.