Overdue

I started this journal because I am a writer and I am pregnant; therefore, I figured I would write about how my dreams, aches and pains and rapidly expanding belly are affecting my life and the universe around me. Unfortunately I've barely been able to commit to a few measly postings, and this really bums me out. I'm already learning that the brain post pregnancy doesn't remember a whole lot of what happened prior to that baby sliding out of their body. Do they remember when their nipples began to turn brown and expand, when the breasts stopped throbbing with pain, when the inner thighs turned to jelly, when forgetting thoughts midsentence became routine, when that mysterious brown line bisecting the belly appeared, when the doubts and fears crept in, when the minor revulsion at seeing your body warp and shift and change suddenly, slyly became joy?

It seems the answer is no. When I ask my sister or my two cousins - all with brand new babies - when this symptom began or why I might be feeling a certain way, they just shrug and plead amnesia - or momnesia if you will.

The past few weeks so much has happened and it already feels like its one big jumbled blur. But enough self flagellating and more chronicling:

Caleb and I saw The Departed a week ago Sunday and the baby decided to say hello. Just as the Rolling Stones' Gimme Shelter started blasting on the soundtrack. I'm not sure if I've ever seen my husband more proud.

The following Wednesday was the big 20 week ultrasound. I get why Tom and Katie bought a sonogram machine. Our viewing of the baby lasted maybe 20 minutes but each second felt like a birthday. I couldn't get enough. As the technician placed the wand over my belly, the baby was staring at us, as if expecting our arrival. Then the tech pointed out a little hand - that immediately started waving to us. The kicker was when the tech took a few "snapshots" for us as keepsakes. The second picture is the baby staring directly at the "camera," resting his/her chin on its hand. If this kid wasn't already papparazzi ready.

Volvo

We hit a milestone the other day. It wasn't an item on one of those What To Expect checklists or seminal moments in pregnancy development, like the baby moving around (and anytime you want to start doing that, kiddo, I'm good). I got a Volvo. As I drove the Mini on our last rites to the Volvo dealership, I honestly thought was going to start crying. Which was ridiculous. Here I was getting ready to own a fantastic car that vaunts safety above else, has storage for passengers and the dog, a built in booster seat, and 14 cup holders to boot. Yet it was hard not to see it as a yet another definitive moment in the transformation from carefree girl into responsible mother. It's still just so crazy, that in a few short months I'm going to be a MOM. A Mini Cooper-less, Volvo driving, 14 cupholder-owning mom. I am definitely showing now, just in time to have my bridesmaid's dress for Alexa's wedding let out. But on a more positive note, it's also in time for next week's ultrasound where we get to peek in on the little fella and see all the fingers and toes. But no naughty bits. We're waiting until the bitter end for that reveal.