Expecting is an interesting term to use for pregnancy, because I have been expecting, yet I hardly know what to expect in the first place. Those first couple months of pregnancy, from seeing the digital "pregnant" read-out to hearing the heartbeat the first time, I was in a high state of anticipation (and nausea and fatigue). Then after that first appointment when the pregnancy was confirmed healthy, I realized that even though I was officially "expecting" I still had my current life to deal with. As much as I'd love to, I couldn't spend all day pinning nursery ideas.
So then life slipped back into relative normalcy. I wasn't showing, and I couldn't feel the baby; the only thing I had to prove to myself on a day-to-day basis that I was really pregnant was the hormonal reactions and persistent cold.
It's been in just the past couple of weeks (the most stressful weeks so far of the pregnancy) that I've been feeling the surrealism of pregnancy lift just a little. I started feeling Babe a couple weeks ago. It started out like tiny pieces of popcorn popping inside my abdomen and has since progressed to more deliberate and delightful jabs. And then seeing Babe on the ultrasound machine brought this pregnancy to a whole new level of reality.
And even then, part of me is still is disbelief. I have no idea how different life will be, how different I'll be after this experience. What I do know, however, is that ultimately I'll be different in the ways I need it, that Babe will alter our family in the best ways, that through Babe my life will hold more for me than I can realize now.
So, I'm still expecting, even though I don't really know what I'm expecting. I'm living my life now and thinking and praying about my expectant life with Josh and Babe--and it's wonderful.