Counting Down

My pregnancy is fairly all-consuming at this point. I would like to have thoughts on the public reaction to the Swine Flu and the following come down of safety. The fact that our VP has already been caught in a Clinton-sized lie and the media basically glossed over it. I would even like to start reading a new book or finish an already started one, but I can't seem to focus on anything other than my growing belly and the wrath that is shortly to be released on my somewhat peaceful life.
This obsession takes many forms. While reading, either online or a book, my little Grover starts to squirm and I try to imagine what he's doing in there, what he looks like, meeting him for the first time, etc. While sitting down to zone out for a few minutes and give my poor feet a break I start to stress out about all the things I really want to finish before he comes. Then I start to imagine what it'll be like once he's actually here. I have fuzzy memories of a very dark time in my life called "Love in the time of Colic" where I felt a love like nothing I've ever known and yet I thought my life had ended in the wake of screaming infant.
In some ways I just want him to be here. I want to see him and start to get to know him. I know it's weird for some people but I am so excited to get to nurse again. I miss that particular bond with Killian and I am excited that I get to experience that one more time. But I am terrified beyond description. I have more fears this time. Last time I loved my tummy-baby so much from the second I considered the notion that he might be in there. This one is taking more time in the bonding department for me. I have a few theories as to why this is, but none of them ease my fear that this half-love may not bloom into the passionate obsession that I had for Killian for the first while.
In some ways I can accept that you will never love again like you did the first time. I have experienced this in my non-mothering life and I assume that it can tend to be similar with one's children. After all, I kind of know what's coming. By the very act of expecting to hear the stars sing and the see the world in the eyes of my son, I am setting myself up for disappointment.
But then there is the odd feeling that I am already divided between my two boys. I vacillate between resenting Grover for taking a part of me from Killian, for making me a mother of two, for just being here. But then I get so so excited that I will have two little people! Two boys seems like such a rowdy, fun way to live life. I want to teach them to hike and climb and swim and ski. I know they'll shoot targets with their dad and come home to bake cookies with their mom. And I know that all these experiences will be richer for them because they'll always have each other. I know the bond of two siblings is unlike any other. When they are grown and their dad and I are unreachable on some mountaintop, river, or desert they will always be able to call each other for a piece of home.
I guess I am just scared of another baby, not another child. While I did love Killian every single day, I did not love the stage of my newborn. I take so much more pleasure in my toddler than I ever did in my baby. And knowing this is coming it's a little hard to imagine a pleasant 2009 and that just doesn't seem fair to any of us.