Countdown!

9 weeks and counting. Holy schmoly. Can you hear the panic in my voice?

This is where the doubt starts to hit me. Again, I question my actions. Again, I doubt my ability to be a mother.

I can't be a mother! Only MY mother can be a mother! What was I thinking? I have no business having children! I'm still a child myself! I can't get phone calls from schools and doctors and such! I'm not big enough!!!

Petey's not freaking out, which is good. He holds my sanity together. He also helps me by telling me to think of the good things, like when George says "Mama" for the first time, when he makes me a Valentine's Day card for me, when he tells me he loves me.

I know it's all worth it, really I do. But until I get to that point, I'm a complete mess.

And on top of all that, the crib has been delivered to my in-laws house. The crib. THE CRIB.

Panic.