So things are weird, up here in my head. I’m pregnant. PREGNANT. But this experience is just SO different from what I’m used to. There is none of that excitement… I mean I am excited! Very much excited! But then again… not.
With my last two pregnancies, as soon as I saw two pink lines, my future planning began. Boy or girl? What will it’s name be? Where will it sleep? Where will I be in my life then, and how do I need to plan for our new addition, etc. My every waking thought was about my pregnancy, about my baby, about me and my life. This time…. no baby is coming home with me. I don’t need to plan a nursery, pick a name, or secretly wish for a gender. I don’t need to do ANYTHING but enjoy this pregnancy, enjoy the responses I get from Daddy when telling him of “our” progress… It’s weird. Good, but weird.
I have been doing daycare for my best friend for the last few months. She has a 5 year old and a newborn…well, he’s 4 months old now, but you get the idea. A small child, still baby, not toddler. I love my friend. I love her children. But oh my gawd, I don’t like them much! Don’t get me wrong, they are lovely, but I have never been so satisfied with our decision to have no more children then I am when I’m rocking, burping, bouncing that wailing little boy. Babies? Aren’t fun. They are sweet, they smell good ( most of the time) and they have cute moments… but for the most part? Not fun. It is very exciting getting to experience pregnancy all over again, and not have to worry about the baby that comes home when it’s done. It’s not coming to MY home! This is the oddest kind of elation! I will ( and kind of do, already) love this child. I will cherish it forever. And I will be forever thankful that it will be in it’s home with it’s daddy, and not with me. Not because the love isn’t there. Not because the bond isn’t there.. but because my emotions have very clearly stated to all parts of my body that this baby? Is not MINE.
So here I am; enjoying this pregnancy. Yes, the heartburn. Yes, the incredibly stinky surroundings. Yes to the peeing all the time. Yes Yes Yes. But the thing that I’ll enjoy most? Handing this bundle to it’s father, seeing that look in his eye, and knowing…. KNOWING. That I never have to calm a colicky baby again. That the late nights, the complete and total lack of freedom, is not mine. It belongs to Daddy. I get all the fun parts ( first kick! soft rolling around in my belly, seeing Daddies excitement, etc) and poor P-Daddy gets all the work.
So it’s weird, up here in my head. And I’m loving every second of it.