As of yesterday, there are exactly three months left until Mark is due. And today I'm 27 weeks - hello third trimester! I'm so excited I just can't stand it. I'm ready to get everything moving already, except of course things have slowed down considerably. I mean, the pregnancy really felt like it flew by up until 24 weeks, but since then I feel like it's been forever. I don't exactly know why.

I'm not extremely sad, though; I'm definitely enjoying having Mark in my tummy for the time being. I'm loving the kicks and the punches and the rolls, and I love getting responses whenever I push on my stomach. I love feeling little knees and elbows and fists through my skin whenever he stretches. I love knowing his sleep schedule so that I can almost predict the times that he's going to be moving for me. I just love knowing he's there.

At the beginning I said that this was the first and last time I would ever be pregnant, but I'm a total liar. I know I'm going to miss this, and I know that someday I'll put up with all of the aches and pains and morning sickness, and of course the incredible fears associated with pregnancy, just to feel this magic again.

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Source: loveology-photos.xanga.com via Melanie on Pinterest

Honestly? When I thought about how big ol' 2011 was going to start and end, this wasn't my ideal situation. I didn't expect to get pregnant two weeks into the year I'd be turning 21 - oh, I didn't - and I didn't plan on having a baby on the way out of it. But now that it's all come to be, I wouldn't trade any of it. I couldn't be happier, and really, I couldn't be any luckier.

I don't regret the timing, either. I mean, I panicked when I found out. I cried. I still have moments every once in a while where I think about the enormous responsibility that I'm going to have and it always leaves me feeling incredibly overwhelmed. I definitely wasn't ready - or at least I wasn't prepared.

But things happen and when they do, everything eventually falls into its place; life made me ready. I've changed a lot in such a short time and I know I still have a lot of adapting to do, but I always will, won't I? No matter the particular situation, things are going to continue changing. Forever. And I just really can't be afraid of that.

I may always wish that I had more before Mark came; in fact, I'm absolutely sure I will. But when it really comes down to it, we have (or at least are going to have) everything we need for him. He has his mommy and daddy, we have a place to live and, soon, a car. We already have a ton of diapers and a tub full of clothes just waiting for him - and more to come. We have a crib and a few toys. We have a family and numerous friends who just cannot wait to meet him. We all have so much love for him.

We're on the right track. And when it really comes down to it, life is good; it's as perfect as perfect can be when you have something this enormous thrust at you unexpectedly (or, come on, maybe even if it had been expected - this is a human life we're talking about. There's only so much you can plan).

I know it's going to be hard, oh do I know it, but I'm ready now.

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Updated: I actually took a picture today! Of my stomach, I mean. Actually I've taken a few, but I've never shared one here, so I thought I might for once.

27 weeks today. :)

Nothing terribly exciting, but I've been meaning to do so. 91 days until he's due!

It's like, I don't want to complain about everything...but I just need to.

Daniel can still smoke and drink and see his friends, and I haven't asked him to stop any of that because I honestly just don't feel like he should have to until he wants to. And I know he will, because he loves our baby. I know he will because he's already cut back immensely. I know he will as his bond with Baby Boy grows even stronger, because as much as I want to yell that he should have wanted to stop the day we learned that BB was growing inside of me, he didn't feel the same way I did.

Source: lh4.googleusercontent.com
via Beck on Pinterest

For him, it wasn't real until the first ultrasound, when he actually saw proof of BB's existence. Before that he just knew that I was puking and that I felt an some sort of magic pulsing through me, and living vicariously, well, it's just not the same.

And I don't mean that an immediate change needs to occur. I don't even mean that he should cut everything out completely. What I mean is that it doesn't need to be done around me while I'm pregnant, it doesn't need to be done around our little boy ever, and it doesn't need to be done, generally, in excess. You know?

Everything in my life has changed for this baby. I quit all of my bad habits (which I'm not really complaining about). I quit doing things that aren't really that big of a deal, but which I'm not allowed to do with a baby inside of me - like avoiding doctor's offices at all costs and walking everywhere in 100 degree weather and wondering if there was ever a use for water besides showering (you can drink this stuff??).

And I lost most (nearly all) of my friends because they just don't know how to connect with me anymore, since I get back-aches after two hours of watching them get shitfaced and want to go home, but they have four more games of beer pong lined up and the vodka's not gone. I get it, guys, but I'm currently home to a parasite, and I just can't take it.

I feel very alone lately.

I'm not saying that Daniel isn't there for us - he's a wonderful person, but god am I feeling overwhelmed. It's hard being the woman! He doesn't even have to think about the situation if he doesn't want to (not saying that he doesn't, but you get me?), and at any point in time he can just decide that this wasn't the right time for him and he can walk away.

I can't. I'm the one who this baby is attaching to even though it doesn't even feel real to me sometimes. I'm the one who no longer has any control over her body, at least for the time being - I can't eat what I want or drink what I want or go where I want, and I'm getting fat without even really changing my diet that drastically. I'm the one who has turned into a goddamn apartment building (with free buffet coming soon!). I'm the one who will be expected to (and who just will) always nurture this child because it's what's expected of me, because it's what's right, because it's my human nature.

Damn me. All of that sounds so incredibly selfish.

And it's not to say that I don't want this. I really want this. I already love my baby more than anything and he's not even here yet. I can't wait to feed him and cuddle him and even change him - it just doesn't scare me. I don't expect any of it to be easy, but I don't feel that I can't do any part of it. I know I can.

But sometimes it's just so frustrating thinking about the way everything's changing and the potential future situations that I just want to cry. And sometimes (most the time...) the situation I'm crying over isn't even close to being real.

Like: as if Daniel's going to leave me? He's the one who's always wanted kids. I'm the one who could have done without (until BB was real, at least, now there's no way I could). And he loves me, loves us, so incredibly much that his love alone makes me cry happy tears sometimes, because just knowing that I'm capable of inspiring that kind of feeling in someone after so long of being in shitty relationships is so incredibly overwhelming. My pregnant mind just doesn't know how else to react.

Still though, it will always be my biggest fear. And maybe it's those shitty relationships that has helped put me on constant alert, and maybe I need to teach myself how to get over it. I just don't know how to, especially now that I'm so incredibly vulnerable.

I don't understand myself anymore.

Source: wonderwren.blogspot.com via Erin on Pinterest

PS: I went to go and find a picture on Pinterest that had something to do with stress and pregnancy so that I could include it here. And I found this, and it made me cry - in the best way. I truly can't wait for my little boy; he's already my everything.

PPS? My 100 day countdown just started. How very exciting.

You know what’s disappointing? Not being able to eat what you want. I can’t have dairy without puking for the rest of the day, and I don’t even have morning sickness anymore! And of course I’ve been craving cereal just because I can’t have real milk, and the taste doesn’t satisfy with any substitutions. It’s disappointing, to say the least.

Also, I hate pregnancy dreams. Why is it that all of a sudden I’m having some off-the-wall or terrifying dream on a nightly basis? Before this, odd dreams only cycled when I was terribly sick, but now I wake up constantly with my fears played out, new ones established, or with odd memories that I just never needed indexed. It’s odd.

Last night’s was more frustrating than anything: I dreamed I was walking across town with the twins (they weren’t mine – my dad’s girlfriend has twin boys and I for some reason conjured them up as infants) and was carrying a car seat in each hand. Of course there wasn’t a stroller, and I was constantly dropping things. My hands were too full to retrieve the things that were falling, and the children needed to be fed at the same time. Then one of the car seats broke so that I had to physically hold one boy in my arms and juggle the others’ seat at the same time. I woke up before I got to where I was going, still frustrated over the fact that everything had just fallen out of my bag.

I think a lot of my dreams come to be because of the fact that I’m so freaking nervous. Although I’m only halfway to holding this baby, the closer and more excited we get, the more scared I am inside. I hope I’m not a terrible mother. Daniel reassures me constantly, and I know that I have a general knowledge of what I’m supposed to do – I won’t be one of those mothers who has never held a child until their delivery – but I’ve never had one constantly in my presence, who is my complete responsibility. I feel completely unprepared. But I know I can do this. And I hope I can do it without making any huge mistakes.

Does other peoples’ behavior during your pregnancy confuse you? Half of the people I used to see on a regular basis are no longer in my life, and then a ton of people that I hadn’t spoken to in years all of a sudden want to talk to me on a daily basis. Not that I mind too much – it’s nice to have people who are excited with you when you’re expecting your life to change so drastically, and to know who your true friends are before you’re responsible for another life (and who you’re bringing into it).

But then there’s the touching; I swear, since I first got the news people have wanted to touch my stomach, as if the minute it happened there were magic in there. I mean…no, that’s not what I mean. Of course something that I have so much love for is going to feel like magic to me.

What I mean is: what were they expecting to feel at six weeks? I understand that we all get excited about babies, but I’m sorry, there are times that I just don’t want you rubbing all over my midsection. We’re not lovers. It wouldn’t be acceptable if I weren’t pregnant, so I don’t know why it should be now that I am – especially when the baby isn’t even moving. I have stand there all awkwardly while they try to feel for something that they aren’t even capable of feeling, because it’s too early or the baby’s sleeping or whatever. It’s weird. At least wait for me to say, “The baby’s kicking!” and invite you, I beg.

I can’t wait until we find out what we’re having. I can’t wait to call my baby a he or a she, to decide on a name that I can refer to it as, instead of just saying ‘the baby’ every ten seconds. I don’t want to call my child an ‘it’ so I avoid it as much as possible, but ‘the baby’ gets to me a mouthful if you have to say it three times in one sentence. Not to mention the fact that it sounds so…impersonal. Knowing will make it easier to connect with my child, too. I’ll finally be able to start collecting things for him/her that aren’t ‘gender neutral’ and to better picture what I’ve signed myself up for.

This little one kicks constantly now, especially when I’m trying to sleep. Sometimes they’re strong enough to be a little uncomfortable – not painful but to where it freaks me out a little. That’s mostly because I have some strange fears, though, like the fact that I don’t like people touching my spine because I picture it snapping, and so the kicking makes me feel like I’m being bruised and etc. from the inside. It’s just weird. And now you know that I’m weird. Okay.

I’m totally excited that I’ve established new followers and received comments in the last few days. If you’re one of them, you’re awesome, and it’s very likely I’ve followed you back – but if I didn’t please tell me, because I meant to.

And for those of you who are just visiting, comment and tell me that you were here as well, and whether or not you’re following. I’ll make sure to pay you a visit in return. I'm a huge blog nerd and I'd love to check yours out.