For Real

Okay, so I’m starting to think that I might actually be having a baby or something.

Mr. DD and I, looking nervously at the calendar, finally bit the bullet and made a trip to the local Babies backwards R Us to pick up…well, whatever the hell it is that babies need. I hate to admit that neither of us have a particularly solid idea and are totally beholden to the evil giant of the baby goods industry to shape our malleable perceptions of what is necessary and what is a load of shit that our kid won’t need in a million years but we better buy anyhow, because OTHERWISE WE ARE BAD PARENTS AND OUR CHILD WILL END UP BLIND, STUPID AND WORKING ON A CHAIN GANG.

Well, we figured a crib is probably a good start, so we got one of those. A changing table also seemed like a fairly good bet, so that went in the trolley too. A complete breastfeeding system from Avent seemed simpler than combing through the shelves for all the individual components, so what’s 129 quid between me and a multi million dollar corporation? (although, to be fair, I did do my homework a bit and it seemed to be the system that was reviewed most favourably by actual, honest to god people who used it.) Baby monitors? Check. Bedding? Erm….yeah, I guess we need that too, but aren’t there like 15 layers or something? What the hell do I know? Just chuck that in there too. The mattress cost almost as much as ours, so it should be comfy, right? A bath set? Why not? INTO THE TROLLEY WITH YOU.

500 pounds later, we felt rather like we’d gotten screwed with our pants on, but at least we felt slightly better knowing that the Prawn wouldn’t be sleeping in one of our new dresser drawers.

To be honest, although the damage to my credit card frightened me, the idea that the Prawn will be here in a matter of weeks was a complete bowel emptier. Although the Prawn is hugely anticipated and very much wanted, I can’t help but ask the question, “What do I know about babies?” Jack, is the precise answer.

I’m an only child and since I lived in the middle of nowhere while growing up, the only kids to baby sit belonged to our next-door neighbors. By the time I was old enough to look after them, they were all well out of diapers. (They are now well out of college, which makes me feel slightly ancient.) So, experience with newborns? 0. Have I ever changed a diaper? Nope. All in all feeling of complete ineptitude? Oh yeah.

Of course, I would be naive to think that I’m the first person to experience this overwhelming feeling of unreadiness for parenthood. People much younger and with far less life experience than me have made perfectly acceptable parents and have managed to make it through the first year without feeding their babies to wolverines or anything, so why should I be worried? Natural, I guess. No matter how old you are, or how desperately wanted the child, becoming fully and wholly responsible for another person’s welfare is a little overwhelming.

Part of it is also wishing that we had slightly more support. One can’t blame a woman for wanting her mother around when her first baby arrives. Mine, unfortunately, is 3000 miles away and my mother-in-law, who in her better days, probably would have been a tremendous help, (she’s a former midwife) has retreated further into a fog of dementia- unlikely to even completely comprehend that the Prawn will be her grandchild, let alone able to dispense advice. Although we have a few friends, it feels very much like Mr. DD and I will be flying solo in terms of support. (I reckon that we’ll be able to win my brother in law around to changing diapers eventually, so that we might be able to go out to dinner once in a blue moon, but it’s going to take some doing.) However, it feels ungrateful to whine. Many, many women go on this journey by themselves, either by choice or by circumstance. I feel hugely blessed to have a partner like my husband.

So, t-minus 4 weeks, 3 days and counting if the Prawn is punctual. Less if he/she is unfashionably early, which I have the feeling he/she will be. Expect more notes from an unready mother…