So, I’m a little late in starting this blog. I’m 32 weeks pregnant with my first child – a boy. My life is nothing special. It’s ordinary and extraordinary at the same time.
Today, as I was sitting in the recliner, folding baby clothes and thinking about all the things I want in life, this tiny being inside me kicked me right in the ribs. No, it’s not the first time, but this time was different. I started thinking about they kind of man I hope he grows up to be. I thought about whether or not I’m going to be able to be a firm mom, yet one who loves unconditionally. I wondered if we’d be able to pay for his braces, sporting events and college education. I though about his room and how it isn’t quite finished yet. And I thought about when he might make his appearance into this world.
I thought about my relationship with my own mom and about my relationship with God. I wondered how anyone could honestly not believe in something bigger than ourselves when you think about the miracle of a child. I still haven’t come to grips with the fact that I’m actually growing a baby inside my ever-expanding belly. I’ve seen ultrasound pictures, met lots of other babies, and read all the books I can find, but for some reason it sometimes doesn’t seem real. I’m sure in a few months when I’m at the end of my rope from no sleep, sore boobs, and constant worry, it’ll seem all too real.
For now, though, I’m going to enjoy these little kicks to the ribs. They make me smile – and then grimace. And I’m going to write about my experience. If you would like to join me, feel free. If not, you’re missing out on an ordinary, extraordinary journey.
