2010-12-09 - 2:01 p.m.
Waiting for this baby is driving me crazy. What a weird thing--there's a little human inside me and at any time she could be born and considered a separate, distinct human but until then she exists largely as an abstract idea to me.
This is a little bit like when I used to imagine what "the love of my life" would be like. Only I guess I never knew for sure that I would find somebody and my baby already exists (although I am guessing she is pretty lacking in the personality department at present). There are just so many questions of what she will be like, who she will be/become.
Or it's like imagining what falling in love would be like. Only I think having a kid seems more momentous...I figured falling in love would change things (I'd be happier, less lonely, etc.), but the way everyone talks about parenthood it is like you experience a fundamental shift in--what? perspective, personality, something. And that suddenly you love your child like you've never loved anything before.
It is hard for me to imagine, and it seems crazy that I could be writing this right now not having experienced such a change and then all of a sudden tomorrow (or whenever the hell this baby decides to get a move on) I will be all "different." Can it really be that different? It is hard for me to believe.
It also seems crazy to imagine my parents experiencing such a change in relation to me. I love my parents a lot, but the idea of them loving me more (and more all-encompassingly) than Spencer seems weird to me. From the perspective of a child, I feel like there is an disconnect between child and parent that can't ever be bridged (despite the best of strong, loving bonds). I wonder if I will resent/mourn that when I am a parent?
How is it that things manage to be both stunningly mundane and quasi-miraculous at once? How come the most ordinary things have the most profound effect us?
