The Honeymoon

Firmly in my second trimester, I find pregnancy to be a little less annoying. Well, except that my belly is growing exponentially, I feel like I'm going to herniate something every time I bend over, my legs are turning into spider-veined sausages, and I am still terrified when I envision my future life.

Sometimes, I find myself already in love with Nick and Nack, imagining cuddling them as infants and making claymation movies with them when they are kidnergarteners. I see all the good things to come. 

Then, I feel a swell of panic as the reality of parenting consumes my pretty dreams. C section. A hundred and forty diapers a week. No sleep for a year. A house full of toys. Disney movies. Bullies. Boring as shit T Ball games. Ballet recitals. College funds. Or, maybe none of the above. Maybe Ritalin, expulsion from school, drug habits, prison visits. Perhaps both, as I have two imaginary futures to consider.

I have no idea what I am doing. This seemed like a good idea. Now I just feel in way over my head.