by StockProject1 via deviantart
Here's some background for what I'm about to delve into: on top of being pregnant I have a baby (half-) sister, CJ, named after her mother and my grandmother. She was born on Mother's Day (I love that) and will therefore only be a month old on Wednesday; oddly, my dad didn't tell us that his girlfriend was pregnant with her until she was 7 months along.
The point of telling you this is that Daniel got to meet CJ yesterday. It was ridiculously adorable watching him hold her and talk to her in that voice that every person seems to instinctively have when they're in the presence of an infant - even if he did look a little awkward doing it all. Not that I think he looked wrong, I love seeing him interact with children, but he seemed mildly uncomfortable.
I think he was nervous. I put her in his arms so that he could try feeding her, but he didn't take over holding the bottle, and then when I helped him move her to his shoulder to be burped, he patted her back about three times before looking at me and saying, "I have no idea what I'm doing."
Still though, it was perfect. I love the way he smiled at me when I was cuddling with her, the way he was imagining what our lives are going to be like in just a few months. I love the way he got all fumbly (is that even a word?) when trying to rearrange her, and the way he sat with his arms awkwardly positioned because he didn't want to move them and risk waking her up when she looked so peaceful. I seriously can't wait until it's our baby he's looking totally confused about.
I've been feeling really strange lately. What's funny is that the days I turned eighteen, nineteen, twenty, I felt like I was an adult. I was so bothered by my father for not realizing that I suddenly metamorphosed into an independent person, who deserved to leave and enter when she pleased and to do so without asking permission, for not realizing that I was capable of making my own decisions.
But now I'm twenty and pregnant and I couldn't feel more like a child. I have to be ready for this and I'm preparing for it. I'm incredibly happy with my life and I know that I'm going to do as wonderfully as a young mother possibly can - because even though I never truly wanted kids or a marriage or a family before Daniel, nothing has ever felt so right.
Still, there's no way I'm ready. And I don't know that I ever would have been, no matter how much longer I would/could/should have waited before getting pregnant. In just a few months there is going to be a tiny human being in my care, who is completely reliant on me, and whose overall well-being is my responsibility. That is so fucking scary. Seriously, I don't care who you are.
No matter what, though, I know that this life is going to be wonderful.