Happy New Year!

I turned 41 yesterday, had a super nice day filled with warmth, love, and treats for the eyes, nose, and tummy. Life is good.

On the cuckoo mom-to-be freak side, I have been worrying myself sick with whether I'll be a good mom, whether I'll be too old to keep up with my kid...am I poisoning my child by taking unisom and 1/2 dose antidepressant? Would it be better to be sad, sick, and chemical-free? Will my child be an alcoholic? Drug addict? What if I fall down? Why hasn't the baby moved in the last hour? What long term psychological damage will I unwittingly inflict on him or her that will require therapy later? What if I get cancer when they're in elementary school? What I forget to feed the baby? Am I eating well enough?

I swear, I have never been this much of a worrier. It's a whole new world of anxiety...perhaps Nature's way of preparing us to care and protect. It's so amazing how you can go through a whole life only having to be concerned with your own consequences, and then suddenly, you realize another, very tiny, soft, fragile human being is totally counting on you for everything. It feels enormous.

Of course, then I think of every yahoo that's ever raised a kid that turned out ok, and it's comforting. We're just going to have to do our best, and that's all we can do.

On the physical front (and I mean front!), the bump continues to expand. Some days I wonder how on earth I'm going to get 4 months bigger. Sleeping is already sort of a funny joke as I flop from side to side through the night. Some days I feel like this balloon on the front of me really can't hold any more air, but I guess that's the marvel of creating life.

Here's to a big, new year!