Somewhere between Married & Motherhood

There's nothing like spending an afternoon with three generations of your family--one of them younger than you--to stir up nostalgia for your own childhood and remind you that you are all grown up. (Or, at least, you should be).
It's been seven months since my niece was born, and I still can't get used to hearing my mother referred to as "grandma" (I'd suspect she's having an even tougher time adjusting to the title, though she's embraced the role). And every time I look at my niece, Evie, I am overcome with this mix of awe (she came out of my sister!), pride and love--and absolute fear. I watch my sister with her and I try to imagine myself changing her diaper, wiping the formula off her face, lifting her up with seeming effortlessness (though she weighs more than 20 pounds). And it is overwhelming. Could I handle it?
Of course, I know I can. And it's not as if we have to give up our lives when we start a family. But I realize now that it will be the end of life as we know it. And there's this part of me that wants so badly to cling to that time when I answered to no one (well, except my boss and my growing list of creditors), when I could sleep in--or all day--on the weekends if I wanted. When my decisions revolved around what outfit to wear and what new restaurant or bar to check out that week. I am happily married, mind you. It's not singlehood I crave, but time.
I want to be a mother; at least, I think I do. But when I'm faced with the reality of what it entails (at least, when you are not wealthy enough to hire an entourage to help you raise your child or take care of household duties so you can--or even wealthy enough to take a year off to stay home with the baby), I am overwhelmed. So many tough decisions ahead. Would I go back to work immediately and leave my newborn in the care of a stranger? Would I take time off and pray that we could continue to pay the bills? Should I try to work part-time, knowing that it will likely derail my career plans--or, at the very least, delay them.
And, money aside, there's the reality that we will no longer have control of our schedules or even our sleep patterns. Everything will revolve around this little tiny human being, who can't even stand up yet, much less hold up a conversation. And yet, there's a sense of relief too--in knowing that you have someone to care for besides yourselves, and someone who needs you. That it's not about you anymore. And that this child is probably the most important contribution you will ever make to this world.
I look at my sister with my niece and I know that, even with the sleepless nights and the financial strain of having another mouth to feed (and daycare that costs almost as much as their mortgage), she has never been happier. She is already talking about trying to get pregnant again next summer. Maybe we will both be pregnant by then.