This is the view that greeted me from my bedroom window this morning when the punk's soft pajama-clad feet came padding into my room. He blessed me with an agreeable wake-up time: 7:30! This was a welcome change from the early six o'clock hour he's been favoring lately. This beautiful sight (and my well-rested body and mind) helped me to begin my day with a smile.
I've been struggling lately with a negative outlook. The pregnancy hormones, aching back, stinging sciatic nerve, heartburn, and fatigue have been getting to me. But after a nice rest and a happy sunrise with a (nearly) full moon setting, I was suddenly reminded of the way I felt immediately following the birth of the punk. In the 3 minutes that followed his arrival, I experienced an empowering euphoria that I'm not sure I've ever experienced before or since. (The closest thing to it was at the finish line of my 1/2 marathon in 2007.) While the doctor was weighing, measuring and cleaning my babe, I had the overwhelming sensation that I could totally, without question, do this again. I wanted to be pregnant immediately and have the chance to experience labor and delivery again as soon as possible.
Well, here I am. Nine weeks away from delivery. Although that powerful euphoria has long since left me, today I'm thinking maybe I will be able to handle it after all.