The other morning I woke up and touched my flat tummy only to find... it's actually flat! There is no longer a dip between my two hip bones and if I trace it for long enough, I can imagine it's a little bump. I, of course, woke Mark up immediately to inform him of this and make him feel the imaginary baby bump. He mumbled something that sounded positive and rolled over - he loves me a lot to put up with me at 7am. I laid there in bed just touching my stomach as if I had never really noticed it before. Thinking of the little parasite growing in there, my little parasite.
My secondary visit with a midwife has be thrice postponed due to weather and my mental incapacity to plan well, but shall occur Thursday. I can't wait. The various websites I check each Saturday (baby's weekly conception day ("birthday" doesn't work if the baby isn't born yet)) tell me that baby is roughly the size of a kiwi and does summersaults. It also says that if I poke, the baby will squirm. I thought I felt it move the other day, but it may have just been a tummy grumble. I pretend I felt it move.
The mind altering and day shifting nausea is fading - thank you Jesus - and now? I cry. Dear Lord above do I cry. I get upset and the tears just start flowing. I get excited? And voila! I am a faucet. I watched V For Vendetta and when they show the clip of her mum being taken? Tears. And then again when Gordon is taken. And again for a full 3 minutes or so when she finds out the whole torture thing was fake. Again when V dies, finishing the film with little eyes shrink wrapped in salty residue. I used to be a badass.
This evening, I cleaned the kitchen as I made a delicious tuna casserole when I was suddenly struck by the image of doing all of these activities with a baby on my hip and Marko coming home to the two of us. He's going to be an amazing father. The picture was so vivid and clear, it was one of those moments where you truly see your future. No crystal ball needed. And then I smiled to myself because we won't be one of those families where dad comes home from work to mom and baby for long. We are headed into the unknown of the mission field, as God will have us. I can't wait.
Shortly thereafter, I received a phone call from one Alexis Allen. You may not know this shining star of my life, and I assure you - your life is less full because of that fact. She is, without a doubt, the other half of my soul (Marko is the third half). I don't remember who decided we should meet, but it was because of mutual friends that we became acquainted. I have no fonder memories of anyone in Bellingham, than I do of Alexis. I hate my birthday, so when I turned 19? Alexis and I stripped down to our underwear and swam in the fountain in the middle of Red Square. We went to nude beaches and BBQ's. We did long hikes and started our days with Mike's Hard Lemonade, even though it is the most disgusting form of alcohol on the planet. We spent long hours dancing to GirlTalk and curing hangovers at Little Cheerfuls. I can easily say she is one of the greatest people I know.
We caught up on each others lives with ease, even though we hardly ever have a chance to talk. And then she mentioned being pen pals and I almost sighed relief. You can only be pen pals with a true friend. I haven't been as good at it lately, but have desperately missed all my letter writing - especially with several of my correspondents out of reach for the time being. I am excited! With Marko working long hours so we can save up - well, there are only so many tv shows you can watch on hulu. I am excited to get into writing letters again...
I must say, being the selfish spoiled little thing that I am, having my husband work these long and tedious hours that just so happen to be opposite my normal work schedule? Not fun. Not even a little. I do appreciate that he has been given Sundays and Mondays off to spend with me, as well as being able to work the opening shift on Wednesdays to give us Small Group/Date Night. But, let's be honest, I just want to whine about him not being around whenever I want. I have had to do drastic things such as rediscovering hobbies - no! - reading entire novels - stop it! - cleaning my messily/conveniently arranged house - the horror! - having fun with recipes - the ... wait. That sounds, lovely. I get to have a clean house, homemade dinners ready for my husband, catch up on tv shows I like, sew clothes that need mending, read novels I love, listen to sick hip hop music about changing the world, google mission companies endlessly, write letters and blogs and emails, drink chilled limeade with ice cubes, finish work related things, play with old cameras, sketch a bit, and still have time to harass people on facebook? What a life!
To be honest, I miss Marko a ridiculous amount. But I've decided to look at it from a different perspective. We are making more money to save in order to take care of our bun in the oven and travel the world, while I have the opportunity to nest and get back into all the things I love and care about and have really been shelved while I got used to being married. I think that's a fairly blessed tradeoff that I can deal with. I reserve the right to whine like a little bitch though. I am pregnant and hormonal, after all, and what use is it if I can't play that card? It isn't, so there. Obviously my arguing skills are becoming far superior as I am great with child - or something.
I think I will wrap this session up as I have said nothing witty or sarcastic enough for my liking and don't want all those publishers to rescind their offers. Cheers!