Tuesday, December 15, 2009

16w 3d reaction

The news is completely out there now! Thank you, everyone, for all the congrats and well wishes. There's nothing better than being so surrounded by love. When the happiness and excitement are shared, they're that much better.

Mom screamed and cried, and cried some more. (If I get a chance later, I'll add the video Andy recorded to this post. If my mother doesn't kill me first.) I still feel the warmth from all the hugs I was given. What a pleasure it is to give people something to be happy about. As my Aunt said, this is shaping up to be one of the best Christmases ever.

I still keep drawing parallels between my father and me. He said something this weekend about how when you have cancer, you sometimes get a certain "look" from people when you walk into the office (or wherever). It's a little the same for me now, though it isn't a tragic look. It's more a pointed look at the belly region, or an odd tilt to the usual "good morning" smile.

In my head, I'm getting way ahead of myself. I'm starting to play out whole scenarios of "what ifs" and how I would explain things to a child who might ask, "Mommy, what's this mean?" or "Mommy, why is this...?" I mean whole scenarios. As in, by the time I stepped out of the tub this morning I couldn't actually remember any of my shower. Did I wash my hair? Twice? The only person I know who gets absorbed by scenarios in his head like that is my father. I'll blame him.

I recently read a blog post by Andy's cousin, who had her beautiful baby boy last Friday. Her post described the whole labor experience and the only part that made me wince was the episiotomy. That still freaks me out. All the preferences and decisions about labor are going to be decided when we go to the hospital for the all-day childbirth and newborn care class in March. I would avoid thinking about it until then, if I could. My overactive imagination won't let me. (When I'm not crashing on the couch at 8:30 p.m., that is. So tired!)

We're in our seventeenth week and I still don't feel any movement. What's wrong with me?

I mean, what's wrong with me besides the fact that I fell again. Stupid Pick 'N Save parking lot.

From "Fallen" by Sarah McLachlan, in honor of my pathetic-ness.
Though I've tried, I've fallen
I have sunk so low
I messed up
Better I should know
So don't come 'round here
And tell me I told you so

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