Family Planning Panic

My husband and I have been discussing family planning and all that it entails. We believe we’re ready to have another baby. This is a very exciting time for some.
And then there’s me.
We’ve been “on board” with this decision for a couple months now; opening our minds, hearts, home (and uterus) to conception.
We saved all of our baby things from when we had Dollie, 16 months ago. I am excited that  we don’t have to buy anything extra for a new baby. We have a neutral colored swing, Bassinet, Boppy-type pillow and all sorts of adorable little baby girl clothes. We have not one but two strollers, a red umbrella type and a blue sedan type with all the bells and whistles:
 
because you just never know what you might need or when. We have two.. no, three! Baby wearing devices: a Bjorn type and two sling types (one that was recalled for suffocation and an Etsy find). We’d only really need to get diapers, bottle liners for when I pump and maybe even a few more bottles. We’ll also need a better breastmilk storage system too but that won’t be until later.
Then it hit me. Like a ton of bricks.
OH MY GOD – WHERE WILL THESE CHILDREN SLEEP?!
And panic ensues.
Immediately I fast-forward to a shopping spree at Ikea, against my husband’s better judgment, where I envision myself waddling up and down their long, cement isles with a swollen belly, Dollie eating ginger cookies from her spot in the basket and Damien skipping alongside me talking about the coolest Backugan or whatever-the-fuck.
I see myself buying a toddler bed only to get it home and build it my self. I see Dollie sticking itty bitty legos in Damien’s nose and mouth while he sleeps or sliding off the bed to poke the baby in the eyes. That girl needs to stay in the crib, I decide.
Then I see myself buying a bunk bed and detachable bed rail. I see my sister staying with us for the home birth I’ve planned and a little while after the baby is born. I see myself greatly appreciating the help when my husband returns to work and while I try to learn how to be a parent of 3.  Instantly, I build the bunk bed and feel good about making Damien so happy to get the top bunk.

 

I see myself getting all too excited to pick out girly bedding for the bottom bunk. I see my husband’s face when I spend too much at Ikea.
I’m back to reality now. I know I have time to decide on beds. I know I’ll figure things out when I’m big and round and swollen or maybe even after the baby comes. {deep breath}
Until my family planning panic ensues again, I know in certainty that I need a rocking chair. After all, I’ll be giving birth at home and my comfort is of extreme importance. I plan to give my ottoman (comes with the glider) to my husband because I am a good wife. I want him to be able to (literally) come home and put his feet up after a long day’s work. (However, I should note that the ottoman would also double as a changing table.)