Pregnancy is such an odd thing. It does all sorts of strange things to your body, it makes you crazy, it makes you stupid. One minute you’ll be elated and thinking about how soon you will have this tiny, precious little critter to love and care for; the next minute you’re in a panic wondering how the hell you are going to take care of this alien in your belly and wondering why in the hell you ever got pregnant in the first place (in my case it was accidental, but still). At least, that’s how I’ve been.
We had a wonderful weekend. My dad and his wife came for a quick visit Saturday morning (have I mentioned how utterly lovely it is to be living so much closer to more family members? Andy, Michala, I miss you terribly, but I’m really liking having the ‘rents a short car trip away) and took us out to breakfast. They took photos of me and my baby bump to add to the baby book Laura (step-mom) always makes for every grandkid. I’ve seen the ones for her daughter’s children and they’re very cute – filled with pregnancy photos, photos in the hospital at birthing time, and photos of the kids in various stages of growing up. She keeps them until the kid turns 18 and then hands them over. Fun. I felt all cute with my lil bump (as opposed to how I normally feel, which is like a lumbering elephant). At breakfast my dad chattered about how excited he is to be a Grandpa, especially since he will soon be retired. He plans to take the kid on various adventures and teach her to fish. We discussed the fact that she is missing a hand, and how we have all come to grips with it and realized that she will be an amazing person who will astound all of us. In short, it was one of the elated moments where I am so stinking excited to be pregnant and bringing a little person into this world that I almost can’t wait.
Yesterday was another one of those I’m-so-excited-and-I-just-can’t-hide-it days. We went to Babies R Us to start our registry since one of my showers is in a few weeks. Wandering around looking at baby furniture, colorful bedding, tiny shoes and adorable clothes put both of us in a yay-BABY! mood. We found a co-sleeper instead of a bassinet (which will come in handy since we have absolutely NO room in this tiny apartment), we found a space-saving booster chair thing that attaches to a kitchen chair, thus removing the need for a high-chair (see above comment about NO ROOM IN THIS TINY APARTMENT), and we cooed over tiny, pink mary jane shoes, itty bitty Converse high tops, Swaddle Me blankets in pink monkey print, and hooded Winnie the Pooh towels.
Somewhere in the middle of the night the euphoria wore off and the above mentioned panic apparently set in. I dreamt **warning: grossness ahead** that I was breast feeding my cats. MY CATS. How gross is that? I repeat: how gross is THAT?! The baby was around, and probably hungry, but I decided the kitties had a greater need. I woke up in quite a state, and am now wondering what the hell kind of mom I am going to turn out to be?! GEEZ.