I’m now 18 weeks into my pregnancy and I haven’t purchased a thing for the baby. We don’t have anything. We don’t have a stroller, a crib, a highchair, or a car seat. I haven’t even scheduled any birthing classes yet. I haven’t made one list. I don’t have one of those crazy giant sleeping pillows or a body pillow at all. I only just recently picked up some maternity clothing from a Kmart in New Jersey. I have one, borrowed prenatal yoga video and three little baby outfits that my parents sent me. That’s it.
When I first found out I was pregnant (I mean, after the initial shock wore off) I wanted to buy everything I set my eyes on. I saw a woman on Bedford Avenue using this Stokke stroller and I wanted it. (They run a grand. Yikes!) I wanted one of these as well. Even their revolving crib seemed pretty cool. I wanted to pick up outfits, toys, hanging baby carriers – everything.
But people (and authors) caution you in the beginning. “Don’t tell anyone yet and don’t buy anything until you reach that 12th week!” It’s funny; the time I felt the most freaked out and excited and had the most energy coincided with the time I decided it was best to keep my pregnancy hidden.
We’re in our fifth month now and my belly is letting everyone know. I no longer have to keep it secret. I keep telling myself that we have plenty of time to get all of this stuff. But, man! Is time ever going by fast! And the bigger I get, the harder it is to break inertia. We read in a magazine that it’s best to buy things slowly over time and avoid breaking the bank at the end. That was about two months ago. We haven’t purchased a thing. Couples I know who are also pregnant (or were) seem to have it all under control. They have lists, pillows, breast pumps, clothing to wear, classes scheduled. I don’t even know which doctor at the 4-doctor practice will deliver my baby. (Unfortunately, my doctor is no longer delivering babies, which I knew from the get-go, I just like her too much to give her up.) We don’t have anything ready. I don’t know how I’m going to get to the Upper East Side when that day finally comes. And what does it feel like to have one’s water break? What does it look like? Does it smell? What color is it? What if it takes place in our awesome new bed? Do I have to sleep in the floor for the last couple of weeks? These questions, and hundreds more, are questions that keep me from thinking too much about what I need to do and know before I pop in late July, early August. There are just too many unanswered questions, too many choices. So why bother thinking about it at all?
I set my mind at ease over the weekend suggesting that we won’t even think about buying anything until we find out the sex of the baby (which should happen on the 12th assuming little dude doesn’t have his or her legs crossed again). That’s when I’ll break inertia. That’s when we’ll start to buy stuff. That’s when we’ll start getting his or her room ready. That’s when everything will fall in place and all my questions will be answered, right? Am I right?
Yeah, right.
Mihow 
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