I have been asked this a handful of times. The immediate things that come to mind are the little flutters, especially when I first started feeling them. Like a little bird’s wing inside me. They gave me pure joy. He’s really in there. But more-so I think my true favorite thing about being pregnant has been the feeling of hope. The unknown, which surprisingly for someone like me who needs to feel in control, isn’t scary at all to me – it’s the kind of unknown that is like a spark, an excitement, an anticipation of getting to know him. My baby. Meeting him, seeing who he is and how our world will be.
I have all the hope in the world. That’s the thing about me – this shameless, undeterred, sometimes naive optimism that has carried me through the last 40 years and unchanged by disappointments and devastations, heartbreaks and sad news. Since I was a child and still today, I wake up every morning hopeful and curious and fresh. I am excited to see how my life turns into something new.
It’s also been pretty cool to see my body change. Watching my belly grow, having awesome hair for the last nine months, all the changes. Even the weird ones. Thankfully it’s been pretty easy ’til recently; now it takes forever to buckle my sandals and I can’t even pretend to see where to shave to attempt a bathing suit. But who cares, I am healthy and so is my babe. And it’ll all be over soon, with a brand spanking new beginning when he’s here.
From Making a Life in LA
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