it's actually a cardigan so i've always worn something under it. but there's a good four inches of lower belly that is not covered by this thing anymore. it sticks out funny with a big space underneath right at the biggest part of me. i refuse to buy a new one. seven weeks left. i'll wear the short cardigan, dang it.
i've been thinking a lot more about being a mom lately. that sounds kind of funny, but for the longest it was just about being pregnant. about what i'd look like, how i'd feel, what other people would think and say. now it's more about what it will be like when ellie actually decides to show up.
i want to be a good mom. one who doesn't spaz about germs or cracker crumbs in the car seat, but one who finds the time to use sign language with her baby and reads obsessively to her. but i also still want to be sarah. i don't want to become super mom and stop being the writer, the dreamer, the lover, the sister, the daughter and the best friend.
it's a weird thing to have a baby. people do it every minute of every day all over the world so i don't know why it hasn't become less monumental. but it hasn't. it has been a life-changing, world-rocking, mind-blowing experience so far, and the baby isn't even here yet.
i find myself thinking that i can't wait to wrap my baby in blankets and just stare at her for hours while i think i can't wait to hit the gym and get back the body my husband fell in love with. i think i can't wait to slowly bathe her and watch the water and soap run over her perfect, soft skin while at the same i think i have to be sure to take the time out to take care of and pamper myself - for the sake of my whole little family.
does that make any sense?
i know. i'm dreaming for the perfect balance, and i have no idea how every ounce of dignity and personal time i've ever known will fly out the window that second ellie takes her first breath.
but i can strive, right? i want her to have a happy, balanced mom who is in love with her daddy and a daddy who's in love with her mom. i want her to be cared for and cherished and comforted always, but i want to be more than just a mom. i want her to be a part of our family, but not the only reason our family exists. you know?
does this count as an identity crisis?
Aiming for progress, not perfection.
"...being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you
will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."