ETA: My baby is six months old and definitively not a boy. But I still wanted to put up all these pregnancy posts, as written, so I’m scheduling them to post twice a week for the month.
Being pregnant really is so amazing. And horrible. But pretty amazing.
It’s so incredible to feel a kicking, living thing inside you and to be able to visualize those movements as an actual baby, who will be born with his own little personality, who already has his dad’s lips and his mom’s nose (technology is terrifying, really).
I think one of the many emotionally awesome things about being pregnant is imagining my mom going through all of this with me. How much she must have loved me, how she felt me all the time, how she carried me around inside her, I accompanied her everywhere for 9 months straight, and how maybe when I came out, she missed me.
We don’t know for sure if we’re having a boy or a girl but I feel pretty confident he’s a little man. I am happy either way, but the only thing that makes me sad about a boy, is that he will never get to experience having a life inside him, and know how much I loved him from the very beginning.
Now that I’m pregnant, I’m totally turning into one of those super annoying women who keeps saying, “It’s magical. There’s nothing like it.” Because, it really is. And there really isn’t.