After February comes March…

I woke up in the middle of the night last night, and, oddly, the first thought that popped into my mind was “Oh, it’s February now…and after February comes March.”  And then I drifted back to sleep, but the thought remained when I woke up this morning.

We know that many first babies come late rather than early, but that doesn’t mean that ALL first babies come late, so we’re doing our best to continually remind ourselves that we may not have until the end of March after all.  It’s weird though…we’ve been counting down to this far away date since the middle of the summer when I had a flat stomach and it all seemed like a big dream.  Week by week, we tick off days and fruits/vegetables of the week (despite the fact that I am stuck on Mango), and my belly grows, and we realize more and more that there really is a person in there.  A tiny little person all our own who at some point will need to be evicted and then the fun really begins.

The “you don’t even have a belly!” comments ceased weeks ago and have since been replaced by “whoa, someone popped!” (thanks and no kidding). I think that’s the biggest surprise in pregnancy for me thus far: people feel SO comfortable commenting on my body, my belly, my everything. Things that no one would dare say if not for the tiny baby in there (how much weight have I gained, really? how much weight have YOU gained – oh, you don’t want to talk about that?). The flip side of it is that people are totally weirded out about the nice stuff…if you’re going to comment on the size of my belly, at least give it a little rub to let it know that the comments are well-intentioned. I know a lot of people are weirded out by that, but I stand by the notion that we need more human touch in our world these days. If that comes in the form of a belly rub, by all means, I’ll take it.  For now. Ask first. But please, rub the belly.

Speaking of the belly, I’ve begun daydreaming about the day my pants require zippers and buttons and belts again.  And the day my belly button retreats back to its home as an innie.

We still have somewhere around eight-nine weeks of Mango in the belly (in theory).  And while the weeks fly by and there is still much to be done in preparation for the grand entrance, the waking thought remains that after February comes March.  Onward we go.

(These pictures have nothing to do with trudging onward, but they’re all from our travels and don’t they look pleasant?  The daydreaming continues…)

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