Light...Tunnel...Action!

Well, I am 30 weeks pregnant now!  I'm not sure why, but the number 30 must hold some subconscious meaning for me.  I always said that when my baby brother turned 30, then I would feel like we were all adults.  All old, really.  When I turned 30, it wasn't a big deal, but I definitely felt something that made me even write a post about it.  And now, I have been waiting for this day when I could say I was 30 weeks pregnant.  It feels more real.  The baby moves so much, and I am getting used to feeling it whenever I want.  That moment of comfort, knowing he or she is safe and warm and content.  It is so much better than the early weeks when anxiety, doubt, and fear dominate the pregnancy.  Now I battle the desire for the baby to stay inside me as long as needed but to come out so I can finally meet him or her!  It's okay-we struck a deal.  The baby is not allowed out for another 6.5 weeks when he or she is full term!  I felt a kick and took that as a handshake.

Srin took a few quick iSnaps of my 30 week belly among the leaves and trees.  The red.  Orange. And yellow. It feels like Fall here in the nation's capital.  It's crisp and clear, with sunny skies but chilly temperatures.  Pumpkins line the neighborhood with the occasional scarecrow, spider web, and ghost in the tree.  Friends' are posting pictures of their kids in costumes, and the eerie excitement of Halloween is most definitely in the air.  

I feel mostly ready for this baby to greet the world.  With our baby shower last weekend, everything I absolutely need is in order with only a few to-do items left.  I guess they call this nesting.  Whatever it is, I like it.  It's so cute to see the itty bitty newborn diapers.  And tiny socks.  Don't get me started on the cloth diapers.  I just got my first batch yesterday from Nicki's Diapers and Cottonbabies.  I'll be trying out Nicki's one size pockets and BumGenius's Freetime all in ones first.  It's funny how overwhelmed I was even thinking of cloth diapering and now look at me.  Talkin' all pockets and such.  That's growth I tell you.

The baby shower was a blast with my family making the hike over East to celebrate the impending arrival of Baby Nagaraja.  Friends and family.  Everyone knows that's all I really need in life.

Halftime!

Well, it's difficult to imagine for me. More than halfway through nourishing this little sweet pea inside me.  He/She is already so very cute, according to a very biased opinion of ultrasound pictures. We are starting week 23 which means I am in the end of my second trimester. Already!  It's flying by me, and I have taken it quite slowly. Cherishing every nudge. Little punch. Hiccups. And fluttery movements. Yes, they finally felt a bit like that flutteriness so many other moms describe. I laid in bed yesterday before work for an extra ten minutes just to spend time with him/her. The baby was so active (help! morning baby?!?!?), and those ten minutes were completely worth being late to work.

I can't wait to meet this baby. Sleepless nights and tough mornings welcome. I know that sounds crazy, and all of you parents have that slight knowing smile as you read this.  But, for me, I have waited for more than a decade to have a family. Quite a surprise given that at 16, I had mapped out my life.  Married at 22 after college. First kid at 24, next at 26, then at 28, and done by 30. 4 kids. 2 boys and 2 girls. Order irrelevant.

I'm 33 now. You can do the math. Sometimes life takes over and plans are a-washed. And thank goodness too. Those years of my life were incredible. Ones I would not have likely been able to do in the way I did if a family was part of my life. And now I get the best of both worlds. I am simply overjoyed at this experience.

I must be that pregnant woman other pregnant women hate. No morning sickness. Little aches and pains. Trouble gaining weight (baby is right on target though!). Still exercising. Hardly any mood swings. And absolutely in love with being pregnant. It's been one of the most incredible journeys. One I imagined time and again for years, patiently waiting for the moment to surprise me. Okay. Not patiently. Per se.

And to top off the experience, Srin's been great. Somehow he's balanced being protective with dealing with my adamant need for independence. And I love when I wake up to a crazy Indian boy nuzzling my belly. He loves this baby so much, and he is exhibiting the perfect balance of involved dad and letting me handle the small things (like diaper choices).

Sometimes I wonder what I did right in life to deserve this happiness. For now, I'm basking in the bubble in which I live these days. A serene bubble. Comforted by low stress. And a content home.

Photo credit:  JC Penney

Muscle Twitches...

I felt them!  I finally felt the tiny little bursts of energy.  Collisions with my uterus wall.  Those things other moms describe as flutters or hiccups.  Or popcorn popping.  I describe them like muscle twitches. You know, when your eye starts pulsing and you are fairly certain everyone can see it dancing madly on your face.  Just like that.  But more random. Less consistent.  And way more exciting!

WAH-POW!

Just felt my little one again.  I'm 19 weeks and 5 days, and I promised myself I would track the big moments.  And this feels gargantuan.

I just hope it isn't gas or something embarrassing.

Moments...

I've always wished for this time in my life.  Prayed even.  Pondered, wondered, and often gotten so lost in my imagination that the line between it and reality was criss-crossed.  Dotted.  Maybe even peeling away.  And, finally, without struggle and with good fortune, I am carrying my first child.

YAY!

I cannot believe how time has passed by me.  We found out on Mother's Day, unplanned and as a result of my adamant desire to answer the burning question I had formulated in my head: Am I pregnant?  It was something I least expected, seeing as how I was in training for a marathon.  I had noticed changes, which I had attributed to being way out of shape.  Like a racing heart of 90 bpm, a far cry from my normal 45-50 bpm.  It was a question I only let myself ask after days of wondering if I was facing my first health issue.  You know, going to the bathroom more often and falling asleep at 7PM. These are abnormal for an energetic girl like me with the uncanny ability to make it across Texas without a restroom break.  But, alas, the day I dreamed about was the best surprise I have ever received. Eighteen weeks into the undulating experience, I don't know if I would have wanted the moment to present itself any other way.

I put aside all scenarios I had conjured earlier of surprising Srin with the potential news and demanded a trip to Target after his parents left. I think his immediate reaction was "Do you really think you could be pregnant?"  And after we found out, "You said this would take 6 months or a year even." And I swear it was followed by "drama queen", which I wouldn't even deny in that moment.  But in reality, he followed it up with a big ol' kiss and a huge smile.

That's the advantage of waiting until you're in your thirties to have a family.  There's hardly any trepidation, save for the lack of sleep everyone complains about.  And there's a palpable excitement.  A time in our lives we are very much ready for.  Maybe not on paper.  But most definitely ready for.

Best Email Chains...

You know something is funny when you laugh out loud or, in my case, spew mango pieces all over your new Mac.  Either way, both are great signs that something is funny.  But, you know something is hilarious if the moment unexpectedly creeps into your mind hours later, and you start laughing uncontrollably.  Sort of like how babies or toddlers do.  Like my niece, K, here:

Let me indulge.

My brother sent an email to us that had an eBay item he was "watching" and he asked if we could pick it up for him if he put a bid on it.  After all, "mom and dad were looking for a freezer".

So I send an email that says "You must be kidding.  It's huge!" to which my older (more sarcastic) sister replies "M-It's a freezer for BODIES.  We are not buying it!".

Naturally, I was so confused.  Upon reviewing the eBay listing, I realized I read "Morgue Refrigerator" to be the brand name!

So that led the email chain to what "idiot businessman would name his business 'Morgue'".

Ahhh, but we all know there are more stupid business names out there.  Like my example: Amigone Funeral Home.

But Mr. Funny closes the loop with the best example of a business with the most silly name.  Get ready, San Angelo.  I am sure you have eaten at this staple eatery in our dear hometown.

I'm giggling even as I write this.

My first bike ride...

It was loads of fun, riding from Manhattan's Battery Park all the way up through Central Park and Harlem on our way to the Bronx.  And of course, that reminds of me of my dear best friend from San Angelo, Tamara, who was born there.  That sent me on a flurry of childhood memories, of getting to know each other at the ripe age of 12, of arguing over religion, and of a piece of me that I miss more today than I ever have.  From our quick dip into the Bronx, we crossed into Queens on our way to Brooklyn and finally to the killer Verrazano Bridge into Staten Island.  Those who read my blog know that I only learned to ride a bike when I turned 30 so this was my latest challenge. You know-making up for lost time.  It's funny how many things you regret as you get older and how quickly you learn that it's just never too late.

Now, I'm ready to graduate from this 40 mile trek to a century ride.  Where will my bike take me next?

I guess courage comes with perspective...

I've finally mustered up the courage to write this post.  One of disappointment. And deflation.  That of failing.  And dreams not coming true.

But then I learned a life lesson on Monday.  And now the post is about perspective.  You know - hearing of an eight year old boy losing his life because he was merely watching a race can really remind you that your own woes are probably pitiful in comparison.

I heard back from NASA, and unfortunately my bid to soar into space has abruptly come to an end.  No more willing the phone to ring.  Or shamelessly googling home buying in Houston.  It was devastating then.  But now...well, it's a bump in the road.

You see, I have my limbs. The freedom to run.  I won't panic at the sound of a souped up muffler. Or shudder at the vibrations when a train goes by.  I don't have to explain senseless tragedies to young kids. Nor do I know what it is like to lose a child.  So not getting picked to be an astronaut?  If this is how I am punished, I will gladly take it.

And delve into the part of my personality that can always find a silver lining.  As you probably know, I am in my own marathon training mode.  I'm up to 12 miles this weekend, and come the summer solstice, I will be cruising the Alaskan scenery on foot.  Each day I run post Marathon Monday, I've got Boston on my mind.  And in my heart.

I'm strapping on my shoes... well, because I can. And because they can try as they will to bruise the All-American.  But the good will prevail.  And I refuse to live in fear.

To a speedy recovery.  And in their memory.