It's interesting how one's life changes with pregnancy and, of course, the birth of a child. I don't have experience as to the latter, but I do with the former.
One big change: It's really not about you anymore. Not that I mind; given the last several years of my life in particular, I'm happy to fade into the background. It seems that MDad and I have easily done so, at least with regard to some people that we considered close friends. I suppose it's natural, considering the timing and nature of how our relationship came to be. But it has been interesting noting the differences in how our group of friends has handled one another's ups and downs, changes in life circumstances, and changes in life partners, in person and "though the grapevine" (which have, in many cases, been 180 degrees different). Talk gets around, I suppose.
But anyway, it's not about me anymore. It's about us. The three of us and our life together. I am blessed with a wonderful man who loves me enough to put up with our crazy set of geographical/job/mortgage circumstances right now, with my crazy mother, and with my crazy mood swings. I know how much he loves our son by the look in his eyes when he picked out Murky's first Christmas outfit last weekend, or by the sadness he feels when we talk about the reality of living separately, even temporarily, after the baby is born. He has spent countless hours these past months mowing my lawn, doing repairs at my house and working on the nursery, shopping for baby things, attending childbirth and newborn care classes and doctor's appointments with me, and holding me when I cry uncontrollably for no known reason. At last Friday's ultrasound, he tenderly wiped the ultrasound gel from my belly when the tech was done, a gesture that nearly made me weep.
I love this good, good man. He is my best friend.
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