I feel so quiet these past few days.  I don’t want to read or write or talk to friends.  I don’t want to go anywhere.  I’m caught up in the calm before the storm.  just waiting.  waiting for something to start happening.  just trying to take in these last few days and weeks with the little girl, this time when it’s still just us at home.

I’m a worrier, so I really ought to be pre-registering at the hospital and buying tiny newborn outfits and washing everything in baby detergent, I really ought to be doing something more to prepare for the little fellow.  but we already have most everything you need for a tiny new baby, even if it’s all pink – pink bassinet, striped-pink sleepers and swaddles taken from the box of newborn clothes that my daughter wore and I couldn’t give up.

but instead I just sit on the bed while my daughter naps and I just look at my belly.  and I think about different it looks from when I was pregnant with my daughter.  there’s no linea negra this time.  my belly was smooth during my pregnancy with my daughter until the last few days, and now those last-minute stretch marks are here, with a few new ones.

I sit and I think about how different it is to be pregnant with my son.  his rolls and kicks and nudges feel so different.  I think for the longest time, I just kept thinking that I was pregnant with the same baby again.  and now I’m having to remind myself that this little guy is someone new.  his newborn cries will sound different.  his needs will be different.  maybe he’ll want to be held, always, or he’ll want to be on the go like his sister.  maybe he’ll snuggle into my neck and shoulder and sleep all over me.  what will he be like? I can’t wait to find out – but I also want to keep him here inside me as long as possible.  listening to this quiet.

he is going to change my life, I already know.  and I’m just sitting here in the quiet,  waiting on him.


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