More and more people are stopping me at work - even dads - that I don't even know personally, to ask me when I'm due. I tell them the due date, or how long I have to go (6 weeks) and they just smile. A glow comes over them and they say things like "you're going to love it" and a faraway look takes over their face. Something is going on here, because they know its my first and they know that everything that happens is probably going to shake my world to the core.It's hard for me to grasp or even think about for more than a minute. On one level I can see that I'm getting bigger, walking slower, feeling a lot more movement inside me, down to the level where I can pick out which body part of hers is poking me. But the idea that me and my boo will soon be three is still kinda foreign. Even talking about plans and events later this spring, let alone summer, everything will be different. I said to him, "do you realize that everything we speak of after the next 6 weeks will involve the three of us and not just you and me? Isn't that crazy?"
My shower was so lovely - tater tots and bacon and mimosas, in the beautiful castle apartment I used to live in, with all my dear friends who also put so much thought into their gifts, all so happy to be there (I assumed, by their smiles). But all still so surreal. I've hosted so many showers that I knew how to do it. But coming home and opening all he gifts again for my boo, its hard to believe that our little one is going to be the one to use them. Looking at the tiny onesies and imagining a tiny body - our daughter - will go into them? Whose kid is all this stuff for?
I guess it will all become very real soon enough. In the meantime, I am collecting stories, advice, well wishes and odd faint glows from anyone who wants to reminisce about those last few weeks and first few weeks. Something odd happens to parents when they see someone on the cusp of what's to come. And it makes me think its going to be very much worth any pain and discomfort that comes with it.
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