the waiting game

I don't know what I'll do when the countdown is over, aside from changing diapers and rocking a lot.  I have lived day-to-day for months, waiting for a date that's five months away, and it feels so normal now.  We're heading into the twentieth week, which in the beginning sounded the way 30 years old sounds to a teenager: forever away.  But along with getting used to the waiting, I've gotten used to the little changes I've made; I don't think twice about going out to eat and not having a drink.  I don't miss eating turkey or swanky cheeses.  I've gotten used to the changing body shape and I'm resigned to the fact that none of my pants fasten.  But as I write this, I realize this could all be chalked up to my being very easily amused. 

Let's hope this amusement lasts right through labor and well into the first few weeks years decades.