I Wonder . . . When I'll Get to Meet Him

Most Wonder Women readers will already know that G Love is about to become Mama G. In about 6 months or so, the evil creature that has been wreaking havoc on her system for the past couple of months will eject her body in a horrifying way (it's natural, women have been doing it for years, um yeah does this ever make anybody feel better?) And she and Darlin'll get to meet their kid.

For the moment, we call the kid a him. We don't know what he is. I mean, he's obviously a human, unless my dream of giving birth to a martini glass comes true (pregnancy = dreams like you wouldn't believe). But it will be a few more weeks before we can know whether he's a Stephen Hawking or an Eleanor Roosevelt, so in the meantime we call him a him. And so far, he's just an abstract idea, a thrice nightly trip to the potty, the morning wretch-and-gag tango with the bowl. On Monday morning, I'll hear his heart beat for the first time, and that's when they say the fireworks begin. That's when I start to feel like a mother.

I'm hoping that that's when I stop having a panic moment and thinking - oh my god, did I make this all up? Did I make a mistake? Has it really been since July that I had my last visit from the red demon? Or was it really last week and I just forgot? Of all the other weird stuff that early pregnancy has done to me, that is definitely the weirdest. This terrifying idea that I am MAKING ALL OF THIS UP, trying to get lots of attention and get out of helping build the backyard fence, using this lie as an excuse to be late to work. Call me gross, but I keep my positive First Response tests (with a cap on the pee part) in my gym bag, so I can check them once in a while and reassure myself. Yes yes. Two pink lines. Positive. Both of them. You're good, G.

There are no tiny little hands pressing against the flesh of my belly yet, no soccer kicks to my ribs, no bladder bouncing - that all comes later. For now, there's just a little more flesh on my frame. Aversions to once-loved foods. A heightened sense of smell, extra oily hair, nails that are growing at the speed of light. None of these things scream "baby" to me - just "hygiene alert!" So after I hear that super fast kathunk kathunk kathunk come out of my abdomen on Monday, I think I'll finally be convinced that I'm having a baby. I'll have heard another person's heart beating from inside my self. Then I'll know there's really another person in there. Whoa.

And then we'll start dreaming of the day when we get to meet our child. I can't believe I have six more months to wait. I wonder when he'll come - when will his birthday be? I wonder what he'll look like - will he have hair? Be a baldie? Have my dad's crooked pinkies? Patrick's hazel-green eyes? My thin straight nose? Freckles like his paternal grandmother? I can't wait to find out. I just can't wait to meet my first born child.

Peace and maternal love wafting out to everyone on this FFAS (Friday was a busy day for Mama) - G