It has been 6 months since I jumped on the bed and woke up my husband to tell him we were going to have a baby. I'll never forget his reaction. Even though we had decided the month before to go for it, we were both surprised. I wasn't sure whether he'd be happy or terrified. The look in his sleepy eyes was a little of both, but he smiled when he said "oh my goodness." That smile told me everything I needed to know - that it might not always be easy, but he was happy and we would be okay. More than okay.
Now it's just 10 weeks from our due date. What I have dubbed our "crib quest" has been completed. (Thanks mom and dad!) We've moved the office furniture out of the second bedroom, gotten on a daycare waiting list and made a bunch of plans that I'm certain will be shattered once the baby comes, as plans so often are. My wonderful friends and family are planning my baby shower, and it's all getting real. Real and exciting and scary and right - just the way things are supposed to be.
I'm sometimes so blown away by the blessing of being pregnant that it's completely overwhelming. But I have to admit, much of the wide-eyed novelty has worn off. Blame it on the "honeymoon's over" third trimester or hormones or whatever, but I'm ready for that due date to come around. Of course I know that the next step is going to be the biggest, hardest, most life-changing experience I'll ever have, and that makes it a little scary. Okay, a lot scary. But you know that moment at the top of a giant water slide where you think "welp, no going back now!" and you plug your nose and take the plunge? I guess I'm about there.
