The Nursery Isn't Done and She's Due in Four Weeks (Help)

So apparently when you’re eight months pregnant and due in four weeks, your brain decides NOW is the perfect time to realize absolutely nothing is ready. The nursery is half-painted (we ran out of the yellow and apparently it’s been discontinued), the hospital bag contains exactly one pair of underwear and a granola bar, and the crib is still in seventeen pieces scattered across our living room floor.

The Nursery Isn’t Done and She’s Due in Four Weeks (Help)

Marcus has been watching YouTube tutorials since 11pm, and I’ve been folding the same tiny onesie for twenty minutes because HOW ARE THEY SO SMALL? Like seriously, was I ever this tiny? How does a human being fit in clothes the size of my hand? I keep holding them up and crying, which Marcus says is ‘not helpful’ but also ‘totally understandable.’ At 2am he looked up from the instruction manual (which might as well be in hieroglyphics) surrounded by Allen wrenches and said ‘we’re going to be great at this’ with the confidence of a man who just spent three hours trying to attach Side A to Side B. I love him. But also, we are clearly doomed. Four weeks to figure out how to keep a human alive and we can’t even figure out where the baby sleeps.