...That's What She Said

I've been blogging like crazy in the last month... but no one has seen it. I cannot count the witty one liners that have popped in and out of my head over the course of the last several days, but I can tell you that nearly all of them disappeared as quickly as I'd formulated them. I had a blog in my head called "Leggo My Preggo" about the fact that dawning a baby belly in public instantly removes your personal space bubble with strangers. Out of nowhere, hands are drawn to your stomach like magnets, people in elevators talk to you and women with children in their shopping carts stop you to share their horror stories about 38 hour painful labors. I had another one prepared that had a title that now escapes me, but was about how our house feels almost haunted. One night Jason made a comment to me about the swing that sat empty and motionless next to the couch. After thinking about it more, it felt more and more like we were living with a ghost. The nursery was completely set up, all the tiny clothing was washed, folded and put away, the car seat was in the back of my car... and everyone's been calling him by name. No one says "the baby"... it's either Jackson Dean, Jackson or J.D. It's like he's been here for months... just exceptionally quiet and kind of on the invisible side. Then of course, there was the blog that I mentally drafted about all my hopes and future aspirations for my son. I thought about how I'll be able to control what he wears, listens to and watches for maybe 2 years tops. After that, he's going to start to form his own opinions... and even if they're actually not his opinions, but rather just influences of the world and people around him, I'm going to have to let go. I will have to suffer through his generation's Pokemon, Sponge Bob or Teletubbies... whatever the new fad is... and just pray that mine and Jason's genetics and early indie rock and artistic influences shine through when he begins to discover who he really is as a teenager. After all, I was quite the follower... including puffy-painted Keds and joining the cheerleading squad... until my freshman year of high school ended and I found photography and R.E.M. to be more my style. These are just three topics that could have stood alone as detail filled journal entries... but now I find myself on the eve of D-Day... after weeks of long hours at work, exhausting drives through traffic and falling asleep on the couch before 10 pm, too tired to log into the computer for recreation... and it's my last night of who I've been up to this point.

Like many women before me, I am afraid. I'm scared that I'll morph into one of those people who hasn't been to the movie theater in two years and who's most accessible conversation topic to throw on the table at lunch is that their kid pooped in the potty for the first time and promises to bring in a photo of it the next day. I'm worried that my friends without children who still go to my old hangouts to dance on my old dance floors will become distant and I'll have to replace them with people who watch General Hospital and like nothing more than fishing and watching football on the weekends. Perhaps most frightening, I wonder if my relationship with Jason will ever be close to what was before the stork brought us that surprise news. The fear of these things would be overwhelming if it were not for the fact that I know this little boy is going to fill a space in my heart that I never even knew existed. I can't help but fear the loss of parts of my old life, but I also know that about this time tomorrow, those fears will be the farthest thing from my mind. Everything changes, everything becomes something else... I know this and this thought will comfort me during the hours I will lay awake tonight thinking about fears of a completely different nature: induction, contractions, birth and all that fun stuff that comes with bring a baby into the world. 24 hours from now, my entire world is going to be different.