After receiving normal glucose readings (YAY!!) Will and I got down to the business of nesting.
Though my muscles are aching beneath the weight of our growing child, my legs are restless. I’m CONSTANTLY itching to ready our home for Bobby’s arrival and it pushes me through the pain and discomfort of the third trimester.
The to-do list is lengthy, but I’m blessed to have tons of help. My father painted Bobby’s room; my grandmother is sewing Bobby’s curtains; and my in-laws bought Bobby’s GORGEOUS crib.
Though I was exhausted, I awoke Sunday anxious to build our baby’s bed. I waited until a respectable hour and slowly kissed Will awake. His eyes still closed, he began to smile.
“Good morning, baby.” He said. “What time is it?”
“10” I lied. (It was really 9:30, but I knew he wouldn’t budge until the clock struck a double digit.) “Come on…” I said “we’re building the crib.”
“Before coffee?” he asked, his voice still groggy with sleep.
“It’s for Bobby!” I whined, kissing his cheeks and nose and lips and forehead.
“I can see you’re convinced” he laughed. “Okay, okay – let’s build the crib.”
I sprawled the instructions out in front of me – telling Will which bolt to use next, what washer was needed, what rail to grab. I wiped the stray Styrofoam from each component and bagged up the garbage as Will did the rest. In an hour, it was done.
And… there it was.
Bobby’s bed – just sitting there waiting for him.
Will and I walked to the rails and stared blankly at the mattress. I practiced leaning in to make sure I could reach. “Not so bad!” I said. I watched Will give it a try and suddenly it hit me.
We made this child with our love seven and half months ago. In that time, I’ve felt him grow and move and kick and hiccup. But watching my amazing husband pretend to lift our bundle from his freshly assembled crib made it all real and wonderful.
A warm tear rolled down my cheek as I grabbed Will’s hand. He looked up at me with glassy eyes.
Its official, I thought. We’re a family.