For the past four months, I’ve spent a lot of time researching, second-guessing, and making decisions about what we need, what we want, and what brands/models/sizes of each item we should buy for the baby. It seems like every item from the big stuff like the car seat and the crib to little things like bottles and diapers comes with at least 20 questions before you can make a decision. Oh, and you better not make the wrong decision, or YOUR BABY WILL DIE.
You may think that washcloth is perfectly safe, but no. According to Internet forums or Consumer Reports or whatEVER, it is the most dangerous thing you can possibly have around your baby. You might as well just blow cigarette smoke in your child’s face if you plan to use that washcloth.
No, I was never actually told that a particular washcloth could endanger the baby. I am exaggerating. But still! I felt like every little decision we made was life or death.
Today I made our final pre-birth purchase: the crib mattress. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say I spent the better part of four hours browsing retail sites, reading reviews, and researching my options. But I finally made a decision, placed the order, and we are DONE shopping.
I’m so relieved to say that part is finally over. The crib will be here by next week, our diaper stash is complete, and the car seat is just waiting to be installed. Our incredibly generous friends and family gifted us with everything from the Pack n’ Play to a zillion adorable clothing items. In short, I feel like we have all of the stuff we could possibly need for this baby.
Does that mean we’re ready? Not by a longshot.
We have about a hundred loads of baby clothes, blankets, and diapers to wash. We have nursery furniture to assemble. Well, first we have to clear some space in the nursery for the furniture to fit, which is going to require several hours of cleaning and organizing. This weekend will be devoted to clearing junk out of the baby’s room, and next weekend we’ll be assembling furniture. We have cooking and cleaning and packing to do. And then there’s the small task of actually delivering the baby without pain medication. You know, little stuff.
Despite the fact that everything is coming together nicely, I still panic when I remind myself that we could be meeting this baby in as few as, oh, 30 days. I will be 37 weeks — which is considered full term — in THIRTY DAYS. He may decide to show up around my due date in 51 days. Or he may be stubborn and arrive in 65 days. That’s a nice wide margin, huh?
I’m hoping he’ll arrive somewhere between 30 and 50 days from now, so I’d like to have everything ready in about a month. Yikes. That is so soon. Excuse me while I go freak out now.