in the meantime

To give you something a little more exciting to look at than a plain white envelope, here are a couple pictures from our ultrasound this week.

Oh, and it appears that my friend from high school may be pregnant with her first - I'll find out this weekend. She and I have birthdays two days apart (we had our sweet sixteen birthday party together) - wouldn't it be strange if our kids are also days apart in age?

in this envelope

In this envelope,

that one right there, is a picture. The picture is an ultrasound picture, on which the tech has written the gender of our child. We're told the picture makes it fairly clear whether it's a boy or a girl.

We're not sure when we'll open it, but for now, I like knowing that we can find out whenever we decide to. All we have to do is open the envelope. 

the line in the sand

When we were engaged, older ladies would respond happily by saying things like, "Congratulations! Have a great life." Annoyed, I didn't appreciate the implication that my life prior to R was in fact just a waiting period for my real life to begin. Seven years later I can't imagine life without R as my partner and confidant, but I haven't forgotten or discounted the first 22 years, either.

This next adventure also brings many congratulatory hugs. It is similarly sort of strange, as if we have now reached a new pinnacle of adulthood or married life. Almost, again, as if the years of R and T, sans baby, don't quite count as much. Don't get me wrong, we're excited too. One of my favorite moments of the day is when R puts his hand on my tummy to say hello to baby. But, I'm confident that in the years to come we will also cherish the years when it was just the two of us, and be thankful for the ways that time prepared us for being partners in the adventure of parenthood.

This time there is undoubtedly a line in the sand, a distinct time of our lives before the baby, and a different life after the baby arrives. We've drawn the line, and are enjoying the remaining time on this side, before March arrives ever so swiftly and we take a leap onto the other side, never to return. There's no one I'd rather take the leap with.