Sarah Anne I Am

  Last week my delightful unborn child both impressed and annoyed me when he delivered several well-aimed kicks directly to my full bladder. As he is practicing this new trick more and more each day, it becomes less novel. Instead of marveling at how strong his tiny little legs are, I now tell him to chill the heck out while I speed walk to the bathroom.   He is also learning to hang out in positions that I don’t find terribly comfortable. I’m sure it’s just one big warm, soothing happy place for him in there, but for me- the actual owner of the uterus he is currently inhabiting- it is not always happy nor soothing. I’ve taken to answering his prodding and jabbing by prodding back. This usually gets him to ease up a bit when he’s been throwing his entire weight against one interior wall of my still-new-at-this body. Even now, we are both learning compromise.   There are a lot of things that I thought I’d be able to live without while pregnant- emergency ice cream, maternity jeans, onli

  My mother-in-law (whom I honestly adore) sent me an article on marrying young recently. Well, it made me cry. And perhaps that’s just due to all the pregnancy hormones raging through my ever-enlarging body, but I really was struck by what was said in this article.   See, I have some very strong feelings about marriage. (Imagine, me feeling strongly about something…unheard of, I know.) I am thankful that I waited till last December to get married, not so much because I think I needed to be that age, but because all the guys in my life prior to Arthur were a far cry from husband material, and I am so thankful that I’m not living on a beach with a pothead who thinks my pregnancy might be a bad case of bloat.   See, I’m 22. According to society’s expectations for young people, I should either be graduating from college and establishing a career, or I should still be in school. Now, both going to college and choosing a career are great things to do. They really are. However, as a 22-year-

So I have been thinking about this baby being born, and how I will obviously sing to it before bed. Which made me start thinking about all the songs I used to sing to Levi before bed. There are some really horrible bedtime choices among them! Such as… "Learning How to Die" by Jon Foreman. "I Don’t Love You" by My Chemical Romance. "Happiness is a Warm Gun" by the Beatles. Really, I might be a terrible mother.