I can't even give the baby much thought any more. All of my joy is packed away now. I'll still be cautious and avoid caffeine and all that, but I can't sit and dream or plan anymore. If I think too much about raising a newborn and a preschooler by myself, I start to panic. The Munchkin is still thrilled, of course. She asks about the baby constantly and talks about what she'll teach it and what a great big sister she's going to be. She pats my belly and talks to it. Ironic that the baby "we" wanted so dearly is finally coming, but I'll be raising it alone.