The entire process of getting pregnant has been filled with nothing but questions and anticipation. Why am I not getting pregnant? Will we ever have a baby? Exactly how many people are going to be elbow deep in my vagina? How many embryos took - are we talking Mark and Jen Plus 10?
Will this pregnancy make it to its end in a spectacularly boring and normal way?
As I settle into accepting my new patient status - normal pregnant neurotic narcissist - and leave behind my old patient status - average infertile neurotic narcissist - I am finding an entire new list of questions and preoccupations to distract my thoughts and keep me from being a normal, productive neurotic narcissistic citizen...
Is this baby a boy or a girl?
And isn't that the mother of all questions? One might assume that once I found out, I would be able to focus on normal things and be able to function and concentrate on the trivial things - like, oh, maybe school? Work? Personal hygiene?
(It can't be winter soon enough, so that I may have an excuse for why my legs are covered in what can only be called FUR.)
(Always bringing it with the sexy, I am.)
As an aside, how do I keep meeting people who are against my finding out what I am having? It goes like this: Oh, you're pregnant! Are you finding out what you're having? Really? Why would you want to ruin the surprise?
Bah! Kiss my ass, people. I have other things to be surprised about. Like, the never ending stupidity of the general public.
But we did find out. Today! And now there are a whole new list of questions floating around my mind now that it appears that we are, really honest to goodness having a baby...
Will the baby be laid back like daddy, or a little more aggressive, like mommy?
Will it be a sports fan like daddy, or prefer shopping, like mommy?
Will it leave hysterical voicemails in crazy voices for its friends, like daddy?
Will it's friends, like mommy's friends, have to bring extra underwear for sleepovers just incase they laugh so hard they pee their pants?
Will it have a freakishly long second toe, like daddy?
Will it have freakishly small carnie hands, like mommy?
And how about us - will we be good parents? Patient, appreciative, always seeing the big picture and not going nuts over the little things? Will we be able to carry on adult conversations that revolve around things other than parenting and grocery bills? Or will we interrupt conversations to talk to our kids, then forget what we were saying and just generally make people want to blow their brains out?
I can't help but wonder what sorts of quarks we'll pass on to our daughter.
In about five months, we'll get to start learning what kind of little person she will be.