anxiously awaiting

Warning: This is one of those posts where I keep it real. Beware.
Some people do pregnancy very well. They get this glow about them. They are in a constant state of awe and excitement. They are happier and healthier than they normally are. They start planning from day one. They are productive and pleasant.
This is not me.
And it's especially not me when the pregnancy comes as a surprise. (I have had a couple of those.) I become emotional wreck. (if any of you are in need of proof, please see my husband. He will gladly tell you ALL you need to know.) There is no glow to be had. I am in a constant state of tired and sick and worry. Normal daily tasks (let's say making dinner, for example) become insurmountable to me. I don't know why it is the way it is, but that is me. This, my friends, is why pregnancy and I are not pals.
But there comes a time in the pregnancy (it varies with every one) where the fog clears. I can see through the sickness and the fatigue and the worries of "how am I going to do this again?", and I become excited. But this pregnancy, for some reason, has gone on and on without this moment.
Until today.
Today, as I showered (I do that frequently because I am a fan of good hygiene. Oh, and you are welcome for the visual.), I looked down at my stomach which has been in a constant state of lopsided lately (this child clearly likes the right side of my body; the left side must contain some kind of poison). Anyway, I was looking at the lopsided mass, and it finally hit me:
a crashing wave
of love
and excitement
and happiness
and gratitude
for this little dude who is bound to be one of the cutest people alive. (I have a perfect track record for making children of that nature.)
And suddenly all my sickness, and my fatigue and heartburn and charlie horses and massive weight gain and slight craziness didn't really matter. Because I know that this little baby will be worth it ten times over. Just like the other little ones with which I have been gifted.

This is just a long drawn out way to say I am no longer slightly depressed about the remaining days of pregnancy, but instead, anxiously awaiting He Who Cannot Be Named.

P.S. I am also anxiously awaiting (but not holding my breath for) that pregnancy glow that has eluded me all these years. It would be really helpful for lighting the way during all those night time trips to the bathroom.