As you can see, he's pretty ambivalent. Zac and I's excitement apparently isn't catching on.
Although I do have to say, excitement aside, I have total pregnancy brain. I had heard about it from my sister, but I now have my own theory about it---I don't think it's hormones, or something technical like that---I think it's just that the reality of raising a little person begins to settle upon you and it consumes you. Work? I'm thinking about cribs. Sitting in Church? I am suddenly having horrifying visions of breastfeeding. Sitting at the stoplight? Realizing I could screw my kid up. Or just affect them in an unintended way. By some little Kellie-thing that I do.
Example: I remember in middle school my best friend came over and I was pouring us some Crystal Light. All the sudden, my friend started laughing. Being my self-conscious 14-year old self, I asked what was going on and she said, "Since I've known you I've noticed you always pour only a sip's worth of anything into a cup. And you do it over and over instead of just pouring one big cup of something!" Omg...she was right. I think my mom and I had a conversation about it later and she told me she did that because as toddlers she knew that was all we were really going to drink of something *which makes sense* but now, as an almost-26 year old adult, I am STILL doing it! Zac bought this Simply Lemonade with Raspberry last week that I love, and there I was in the kitchen the other day, pouring myself a toddler-sized glass. Did this screw me up for life? No, but it's something I picked up as a kid and I continue to do. Terrifying concept. My baby may pick up my flighty nature, my aversion to gym class...my affinity for fattening foods and expensive shoes...oh, no.
So, ofcourse I'm excited, so grateful to have this little baby on the way, and so very aware that he/she is meant to come into our little family, but I am so very scared of that moment we get in the car to drive that little baby home from the hospital. That's the funny thing--I'm not really scared of the labor (I met my Dr. the other day and she's been doing it for 25 years, she is LEGIT). I have full plans to have that epidural the minute I can so I don't feel a thing and even hope to be induced (because drugs were invented for a reason. To not use them would be like not using electricity just to show the world I understand the cavemen.) I am excited we will deliver at the same hospital Zac was born at (LDS Hospital, like a couple blocks from our house). But what I am afraid of is the recovery after the labor and getting into a routine with baby. And finances. My consolation and mantra I thought of this morning driving to work was, "Teen Moms on MTV do it, so can I."
Another thing I did not expect with pregnancy is how tired I am all the time. I more expected the things you usually hear about---the throwing up (which hasn't been a frequent thing for me), the nausea, etc. But what's been really weird for me is to have my normal energy level cut in half. I have always had a lot of energy and been up for anything.
Growing up in our house, when it was your birthday we were 'Queen for the Day,' which meant we could dictate what we did as a family to celebrate for the whole day. So, the morning of my birthday, I would run into my parents' room and start listing off our agenda. "First," I would squeak, in my little girls' commanding voice, "we will go get doughnuts, then go bowling, then eat at Pi's (my favorite Chinese restaurant)..." and I would proceed to list more things than is humanly possible to do in a day. Fast forward 18 years to my mission, and nothing had changed. Companions would tell me they needed a break and had a hard time keeping up with me, but I just had so many things I wanted to do, and see! Let's visit this less active member, and hey, let's just visit all of them in the records! And then, let's go street contacting for 4 hours! And then let's walk around for 30 minutes trying to find that hole-in-the-wall place in that one alley we love to eat at. (By the way--I don't condone this. Breaks on missons and in life are needed.)
But now, Zac and I get home from work, we tackle Theo for a bit and eat dinner, and then I don't really remember what happens except to say that a couple hours later Zac is waking me up to crawl upstairs to bed. It's like I was living on the gold star in Mario Kart where you're glowing and really fast and all the sudden I am downgraded to playing as Bowser where I can barely race down the track. Don't get me wrong--I'm not complaining, I've had it lucky not throwing up everywhere, etc. but it's funny when you go through something you've heard about and seen dramatized in sitcoms your whole life, and then experience it for yourself.
|That face is what I look like around 9 p.m. every day.|
All joking aside, when I'm not falling asleep I am totally excited. I love when Zac puts his hand on my belly and talks to little Bean, and says, "I love our family." That one moment makes it all worth it.