Sometimes so many bad things happen in a row it starts being kind of funny. And then you get rear ended just days before you finally get to bring your first baby home. Let's just think about the latter part.
I mean, I suppose I've been a mom since I got pregnant. And then more officially at special moments like childbirth, the first diaper change, the first time I got to hold Finley . . . blah blah blah. But I've always felt like I'm not quite a mom until I actually bring my baby home and lose weeks of sleep feeding him in the middle of the night. At the very least I feel like I don't know if I'm going to be even a halfway decent mom until I know I can do this impossibly hard part.
So I'm flipping out a little bit since I have no idea what car I'm bringing Finley home in, and the doctor says that'll be probably Saturday, which I'm hearing as sometime between Saturday and Tuesday. We'll sleep over with him at the hospital tomorrow night, and then pray like mad we all make it through this thing.