Almost over

I am in my last two weeks of pregnancy...Did I enjoy it as much as I could have? Did I speak to my baby as much as I should have? Did I sing to him and made him feel special as much as I would have liked?

There is one thing I know I didn't do enough. And that is to write about my experiences, my feelings, my emotions. I promissed myself I would keep a journal for my baby to read when he gets older. And I feel somehow guilty for not sticking to it, for not seizing the moment. Because every step of our journey was and is precious - from denial, to acceptance and happiness.

During pregnancy things can get tougher, especially when the pregnancy is not expected. And then you have to deal with parents' personality crisis and judgemental remarks such as ... what will the world say?

And then there are the bad days, when you can barely wake up or or when your ankles get so swallen you can hardly walk, or when heartburn makes you cry.

But in the end...you come to realize that nothing really matters. That a small being has been growing inside you from nothing more than a cell. That he had a heartbeat at only 6 weeks and although big as a bean, he had little hands, fingers and even nails.

And you realize all of a sudden that it is trully a miracle...we are always looking for miracles, but somehow fail to see the ones so obivous.

Some struggle and go through great sacrifice to have a baby, while others reject the very idea of having one, even when they find out they would. Strange little world we live in, isn't it?

And coming back to my initial thoughts, I wounder if I complained too much about all the bad parts of the pregnancy instead of being simply happy for what it really means.

Thinking of my baby makes me cry sometimes...tears of happiness and love that probably I will never be able to express in words, no matter how much I would try.

I hope that beyond everything, he feels I love him and that he is welcome in this world with affection and happiness.