I think I've stopped weeping long enough to write this down.
I married the Best One.
Dean and I have had a lot of emotions in recent months- some hormonally induced (mine), some situational. We've laughed for no reason, cried for no reason a bit more often, and have found ourselves laughing and crying simultaneously, unable to pinpoint exactly what has driven us to that strange combination of feelings.
It's safe to say that most of these emotional highs and lows have been brought on by how drastically our life together is changing. How we are going from a two-person partnership to a three-person family.
We've had ample time to prepare our home, a fair amount of time to wrap our brains around this enormous change, and too much time to imagine/ worry about/ rethink our futures.
One big change that will come with the baby's arrival is finding time for Dean to write, so we both make an effort to carve out pockets of uninterrupted time when Dean can have some space and time to himself to think and write and work. More often than not, this involves me having brunch with a friend, getting a pedicure, and seeing a chick flick (or another movie Dean is happy to miss.)
Today, on this gorgeous Saturday, I had brunch with my also-pregnant friend, came home for a few minutes, and then left to see "What to Expect." (Surprisingly, I think I was the only pregnant woman in the audience.) Dean was staying home to work on his projects and kindly wait for our new glider to be delivered.
I came home awhile ago to find that while I was gone, Dean assembled our new glider and set it up in the bedroom for me. He used tools to put a ton of pieces together to make a comfortable place for us to rock our son. He built a chair that actually supports our weight and glides, just like the name says.
Here I was watching a movie several blocks away, feeling proud of myself for providing Dean with this time to himself, and all the while, Dean is using his rare time alone to do something to make me happy. Me.
And he took the laundry to the cleaners, too.
I burst into tears, as I often do, but this time was different. This time it wasn't because I was overwhelmed or scared of giving birth, or frustrated that my shirt isn't covering my whole belly.
I burst into tears because I am so lucky, and so loved.
And so is this baby.
We both got the Best One.