I call her “the baby” all the time.
I feel funny when I call her by name.
It’s like I’ve known for so long that she’ll be Maia… that I already have an idea of who Maia is. It feels awkward. It kind of makes me understand why some parents might choose not to find out their baby’s gender.
Hell, speaking of that — I haven’t cut all the tags off her clothing yet. Mostly because I’m worried what happens if “she” is a he, but somewhat because I still, despite moving into week 36, have difficulty accepting that WE ARE HAVING A BABY, and cutting the tags off all that clothing to toss it in the wash means I’m embracing that reality. It’s crazy. I’m so excited to have her here, yet I keep delaying taking the simple steps that I need to take to make the house ready for her arrival.
Now if only I knew whether this was my innate tendency towards procrastination or some sort of worry…