45 days.

In 45 days, this relativly selfish man who spends 2-3 days/week playing disc golf, quiet hours reading, mornings playing fetch with Kia and Ginny, and moments before bed playing backgammon will be thrust into a world where those days, mornings, and quiet moments seem to vanish.

Oh, and the odds are that those 45 days will likely be shorter.

Needless to say, Faith and I are now completing this Tuesday with overwhelming feelings of inadequacy.

How will we make it with little or no sleep?
What if we're the world's worst set of parents?
What if we go broke?
Where's God in all this?

Though in the back of our minds, we're aware that moms and dads have been quite apt at adapting to parenthood for countless years, the fears still linger.

Prayers would greatly be appreciated.