Over the past week or so, some things have started to shift.
I am still not thrilled with being pregnant, although staying as active as I am does help with that. But I am starting to get thrilled at the prospect of this new little life. That mothering instinct I was afraid might never show has started knocking at my door.
With that instinct comes the worries--will he be healthy? Will my labor go well? Will he have all his fingers and toes? Right now all I want is a baby as healthy as Sam. I can't wait to hold him and to play with him and even to raise a child of a different gender. Suddenly, in spite of myself, I am unabashedly excited, thrilled even, to be welcoming this new life.
Yesterday marked two months from my due date and I am now in familiar territory. I see the end, it is almost here. And yet, it still feels so far away. I am doing my best to keep busy and the amount of work I have to do is helping me in that regard. Between the three deadlines I have looming, two edits and huge corporate project, this is going to be a busy few weeks (but I did sell an essay to one of my favorite publications this morning, so I am thrilled about that).
The summer seems exciting right now, as does his arrival. So I say bring it on. I want to meet my son!