Sympathy Pain

So, I give you my wife’s page. The Anvil Tree. She is an active blogger, and I love reading her stuff. Here is her latest:

Random Baby Thoughts
Filed under: The Mommy — Sarah @ 8:55 am
I realized, when I woke up this morning, that I am never pregnant in my dreams. I never have a child, I’m never bulging around the tummy, and I’m just me. This has both concerned me and fascinated me since I made this connection. One, because I feel the need to sit up and verify that I am, in fact, still pregnant every time I wake up and two, because I fear that my psyche has not yet accepted the baby.
Not that the psyche gets a vote, mind you. The baby is coming, for sure.

And get this: I will begin my 27th week of pregnancy on my 27th birthday. Odd? Yes. You pair that with the fact that Tony’s conception was on THE IDES OF MARCH, and it’s incredibly likely that my child will come out with a 666 on his forehead.

Then there will be a battle of epic proportions to determine who the real anti-Christ will be. Because we all know the other contenders out there. I’ll buy a ticket.

Although I’m slowly creeping into the uncomfortable phase of pregnancy, I’m starting to find a lot of peace with it. I enjoy the kicking now, and miss it if it lessens. I cry just thinking about holding Tony for the first time. (Yes, me. I’m that girl now.) And when we brought crib pieces in last night, I was suddenly struck with the knowledge that my baby will sleep there. My. Baby. Weird, huh?

But my favorite story about Tony thus far (other than his massive man-parts, which are still the stuff legends are made from), is that all of “my guys” here at work give me a hard time about the baby. (I say “hard”.. it’s just a lot of male ribbing, which I can give out as well as I can take.) They accuse me of faking the pregnancy, telling me I’m just trying to hide the extra weight I’ve put on. (Which is when I point out their gray hair, bald spots, and “baby weight”.)

One meeting, I was sitting at the computer, and was holding my tummy as Tony was being especially active. One of those same managers walked by, and said, “Quit acting like there’s a baby in there! There’s just NOT.”

And my son, the one with our comic timing, kicked my belly so hard that my badge flipped over.

He is SO our kid.