It’s an age-old proverb, and if it’s not then it should be. My mother used to give me this line on a regular basis, “Patience is a virtue.” I usually rolled my eyes at her. After all what was the point in patience, right? The problem was that I was always looking towards the future and anticipating the unexpected and as I’ve gotten older that hasn’t changed.

This week I am technically entering into my 25th week of pregnancy; however, my doctor did tell me last week that I was measuring at 25 weeks, so perhaps this week is my 26th week? I’m not complaining. I would much rather have Davey here sooner rather than later, but my impatience with how long it is taking is not a good thing. I’m only 14-15 weeks away from his birth. In the grand scheme of things, that isn’t so far away, but when I think about his due date being September and technically summer hasn’t even started yet, then I become impatient. I want him here now. Actually, I wanted him here yesterday or maybe the day before or even the day before that. Basically, what I’m saying is I’m tired of all of this waiting, I want to hold my son in my arms and start experiencing motherhood. I don’t care to experience pregnancy anymore, not that it’s been so atrocious, but just because it seems like Davey’s birth is so far away that I may never see it.

My girlfriend Christie just had her son almost 2 weeks ago. I talked to her today and she spoke about how quickly time flew by. Will I see it that way as well once Davey is here? I can’t imagine I will because everyday is like a countdown to the grand prize. I almost feel like I’m wishing my life away by counting down. Normally, I’m not so eager to have my summers fly by, but this year I just don’t care. I impatiently sit by and think about my son and what he will look like once he’s born. I envision our days together and how I will be as a mother. I think about all of his clothing he already has and the more that is yet to come. I have these romantic and not quite so romantic notions about life as a mother and regardless as to how stressful and bad those times may be, I’m eager to start experiencing them now! I can’t wait to see my husband holding our son, how he’ll be in the delivery room, what my parents will be like when Davey is born. I can’t wait until his aunt comes down to visit and spoil Davey. I can’t wait to put him in his NY Yankees uniforms, as we’re anticipating our beloved Yankees making it to the World Series which will coincide with the time Davey is born. I look forward to my Saturdays of watching Clemson football games with Davey on television. I wonder how our dog will react to Davey. Will she adjust and become protective of him? I wonder if he’ll sleep or if he’ll be like all of these other babies who never allow their parents to have more than three hours of sleep. And then, even in light of all of my eager anticipation, I also worry about being sleep deprived and how that will impact my mentality. Good or bad, I’m just eager to experience motherhood, and the wait is killing me.

There’s so much I wonder about Davey. I wonder who will he look like most? Will he take after his daddy in the intelligence department, which is my hope since my husband is genius. I wonder what traits he will inherit from both of us, and one that seems to be obvious is that he is stubborn. I’m going to let my husband take credit for that trait, but the one I hope he doesn’t inherit from me is the one that triggered this blog……IMPATIENCE. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that he’ll be more laid back than his mother and will roll with the punches a lot easier in life. Whatever he may be or however he comes out in this world, I just can’t wait to start my life with him.