Halfway

Yesterday marked the official halfway mark of my pregnancy, which is both thrilling and terrifying on so many levels.  Thrilling because I'm taking part in the miracle of life-making, something that blows my mind everyday.  It always astounds me when I see other preggos walking around and they're not just rubbing their belly in wonder.  My belly is getting a shiny spot from being rubbed so often.  I'll just sit and rub my expanding stomach for no other reason than to assure myself that yes, I really am pregnant.  I'll stare at my naked stomach in the mirror from all angles, wondering why I don't feel fat when my abdomen is so obviously protruding and getting more Santa-like by the day.  It's a surreal, out-of-body experience to watch my body change so drastically and to feel so okay with it.  In fact, I love my pregnant body.  I love the curves and the softness of it.  Mostly, though, I love not having to worry about my body (appearance wise, anyway) for what may be the first time in my life.  It's liberating, and will probably only last until I hit the third trimester and Aidan starts to kick all my organs to bits and my cute little bump turns into a blimp.  But I'm going to enjoy this stage anyway.

What terrifies me is the fact that I'm still "making room" for Aidan in his own room.  Have I painted?  Purchased a crib?  Organized a closet?  Bought a book, a piece of clothing, or anything at all for my little darling to be?  Oh, no.  I'm still UNPACKING and REORGANIZING stuff Blake and I just threw in the "nursery" which used to be Blake's "office" which was really a euphamism for "the room where we keep all the stuff we don't really want to go through and that we really don't have room for but don't really want to get rid of".  Everyone has a room like that, right?  RIGHT?!  What weirds me out the most is that not having the baby stuff doesn't bother me one little bit.  I'm totally zen about all things baby related.  After all, this baby is coming whether we're ready for him or not, whether he has a crib or not, and whether his nursery is decorated or not.  Seriously, he's not going to know if his room is perfectly appointed the day he comes home from the hospital.  As long as that mama's milk is flowing, his world will be A-OK.  Nope, what freaks me out is the thought of trying to continue taming the never ending flow of dirty dishes, laundry, and miscellaneous stuff that accumlates daily.  I can hardly do it now-what the hell am I going to do when I have baby in tow?!  I mean, even once my house is actually organized and clean, the thought of the upkeep overwhelms me from time to time.  Then I rub my tummy and remember that hell, Aidan won't care if a few (A FEW) things are out of place.  And if he does, we can always just go over to Grandma's house.  And that, folks, is called being positive.