There's No Room Left

I was talking to my friend Harish on the telephone the other night, and I think I may have bored him to death. We don't get to talk often, so usually when we do it is non-stop wit, laughter and catching up. This phone call was different. I am way off my game, and I can only assume that there just isn't any room left in my body for wit or laughter. I'm too full of baby. I had to beg off the call early, and I told him that in just 18 short years I'll be back to normal. We'll talk then.

And do you know, there is only a tiny part of me that thinks I'm lying.

Nothing is ever going to be the same around here, and wasn't that supposed to sink in before I reached 36 weeks gestation?

I walk around our house and it is difficult not to trip over the bouncy seats, swings and strollers that T has spent this week putting together. I think about the little person that will soon occupy all this baby gear and hope that I won't trip over HIM while he's in them. It is easy to trip when you can't see your feet, though, give a girl a break. I look at T when he doesn't know I'm watching and I can't believe that we made this person who will keep us awake all night and not be able to use the toilet. I watch Baby A rock and roll in my belly and I can't believe that this isn't a dream, that he is really going to be here. I spend a lot of time hoping I don't wreck him just by virtue of being his mom.

There isn't any room left for wondering, either. I just want to know him. I just want to know what this new life is all about.

I just want to meet John Joseph so I can tell him all about good sleep habits and the efficiency of indoor plumbing.