I have always said that I don't like surprises and last year when I found out that I was going to have a baby, it was definitely a surprise.
Really, to be perhaps too honest, I was unhappy to be pregnant. I kept asking "why? why now?" Then I felt the weight of guilt - I should be thrilled! So many people want this and aren't able to have it! But reminding myself of that only made me feel worse. I wanted to travel. I wanted to simply be a newlywed. I wanted to buy a house first. I wanted it to just be the two of us for a few years so I could have memories of the time before we had children.
It took a while to get adjusted to the reality that I was going to be holding a newborn in my arms in less than 9 months time. Finding out that it was a little boy, though, kindled my excitement. I'd always wanted a baby boy first.
I began to prepare for him and think about what he would be like. I would feel him kick and take my vitamins and I was happy to know he was healthy. I felt lucky to be tiny while pregnant because it meant more ultrasounds in order to make sure he was growing normally. But every so often there were moments when I'd realize things like how I would be celebrating my first anniversary with a baby bump - and then I felt robbed of time that I thought I needed without the responsibility of caring for a child.
I'm not really sure what adventures I thought I was going to miss out on. We had not already made great travel plans and we had little money with which to make plans for a grand get-away. I wanted the possibility, though. That if we really wanted to [fill in the blank], we could.
Now that I have my darling boy, I understand that having him was exactly what I needed. I needed him more than a trip to Europe and I needed him more than an extra hour to get ready in the mornings. I don't really know how, but it's better changing 20 diapers a day. It's better waking up 3 times a night just to make sure his little tiny lungs are still filling and re-filling with air. It's better using the Target dressing room to feed him than it is to try on clothes that don't work out anyway.
These incredibly mundane things that I repeat over and over somehow feel like a greater adventure than anything else I can imagine doing. This tiny, wonderful little soul has made all those silly cliches true for me; I do love him more and more each day and he is growing way too fast.
I guess, after all, I do like surprises.
p.s. When I was feeling bummed about us having a baby so soon, Michael said to me "hey, it's ok, we are so in love that ten years wouldn't have been enough time together as just the two of us." Isn't that sweet? He says the most romantic things.