First time

I'm scared. I'm excited.
I feel like I'm going to throw
up. This is what I've dreamed about since
I was a little girl playing with dolls, but I'm not a little
girl anymore. And this won't be a doll. I'm going to be a mom.
A real mom. I am growing a baby inside me. If this didn't happen every
day, I'd think it's a science fiction movie--a tiny alien. My friends have
had babies but you just don't know
how bizarrely cool it is until
it happens to you. Will he look like me? Will he look like his dad? Both?
How can something so close be so far away: I know him,
but I don't know anything about him. I can hear the heartbeat. His kicks
practically lift me off the ground! But is everything all right? I mean is he
developing all right? Is everything okay?
I can't wait to see him. I hope he looks like me. Or his dad. If he's healthy, I'm good
either way.
I hope I didn't jinx something by talking about this!

From a March of Dimes ad. Do you remember the first time? The eighth time isn't much different.
The anticipation, the hope, the worry.
The love.

I love all my sweet babies out there. The worry never ends!