Ok. So this is most definitely the last you will hear from me while I'm still on the West Coast.

But I just had to take a moment to write because.... I'm scared. Leaving my house and all of my worldly posessions is a lot scarier than I thought it would be. I have a little life here with a cute little house and all kinds of nice things that we have accumulated over the years. Gosh, I never thought of myself as very materialistic, but it's really hard to leave all of these things behind and just *pray* that I come back and everything is still in one piece exactly where I left it.

I know I'm taking everything that's most important with me.
I know that this arrangement, for my peace of mind, is certainly the lesser of 2 evils. But it's still pretty scary. In fact, I'm pretty freaked.

I'm sure all I need to stop worrying about this house is a good couple of hundred miles of distance between it and me. Then I will be able to put it out of my mind and focus just on the future.

Gearing Up

I am currently getting myself geared up for the big trek x-country. In case you don't know, I'm relocating to the East Coast for a few months so I'm not stuck out here all alone on the West Coast to have this baby. (Ok, so maybe I wouldn't be all alone, but I wouldn't have my most treasured people here with me which would just be a shame, don't you think?)

The latest word with Mike is that they are officially requesting a replacement for him. As far as other official information, there isn't any, so I feel confident to continue with my plans for relocation.

Though I have a few strange twinges inside of me about just up and leaving my house and all of my worldly belongings for several months, I am totally aware of the fact that everything that is most important will be with me. Everything else is just possessions and can be replaced.

My current fervent prayers go as follows: healthy pregnancy, healthy baby, safe return for Mike, safe trip for my dad and me to the East Coast. Everything else is just details.

Back on the Elliptical

During my 1st trimester I was deathly afraid of pretty much everything. If I could have built a safe cocoon and stayed inside of it, I probably would have. I'm a worrier by nature and the realization that I had the life of the teeniest tiniest person inside of me had me in super crazy worry mode.

When my first trimester was over and with multiple assurances from my doctor that not only was exercising safe during pregnancy, I should be doing it at least 4 times a week, I bit the bullet and got back on my elliptical machine one day.

I only lasted for about 5 minutes... because... call it coincidence... those 5 minutes happened to also be the first time I experienced round ligament pain...

I abruptly got off and did not consider getting back on again until recently.

I guess now that I've had the assurances of 1. a healthy ultrasound 2. a baby who moves regularly and 3. an expanding belly, I figured that it was time to get back on that elliptical. finally. As panicked as I was about doing something to hurt the baby, I was almost equally panicked about more than 9 months without an exercise regimen.

So I've been doing elliptical. Very. Very. Slowly. For between 30 and 40 minutes a day.. 4 or 5 times a week... like the doctor ordered. I feel really great about it.

Zen

ooooohhhhmmmmm.... oooohhhmmmmm..... oooohhhhmmmm.... (<----- me meditating!)

I've gone to my happy place, folks. I don't know if I'm overreacting to all of this or what. It's a little bit hard for me to be objective about this right now.

Yesterday was.... interesting. It started with the 75% chance email from Mike. Continued with a frustrating skype conversation with him in which the skype kicked him off every 5 minutes without fail. crescendoed with a lot of feeling sorry for myself kind of stuff, and ended with a looooooong conversation with myself and God (if he was around to listen).

What I figured out from all of that was I don't know much for sure. All that I do know for sure is that I will be there when I give birth and so will the baby. I don't know where we will be. I don't know who will be with us. But it will be OK. Maybe I won't get to see Michael's universe shift as he witnesses the miracle of childbirth. Maybe everything won't work out as perfectly as my imagination has decided it should. Maybe. Maybe my mom will totally miss everything due to her work schedule and limited time off. Maybe.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. That's all it is right now is a whole bunch of maybe's.

Oh-freaking-well. It is what it is. It will be what it will be.

and what will it be? Incredible. And Amazing. And Special. And Life changing.

I mean, according to my mom, Chinese women are giving birth in rice paddies as we speak, so I guess I don't really have it so bad. (inside joke there, folks. don't judge us).

So I'm back in my happy place. Until I have something official to freak out about, I am taking a chill pill and doing the zen thing. I always thought that being pregnant would have to be the coolest thing in the entire world. and it is. and I do not want to ruin that with my own anxieties and fears of what the future will bring.

The future will take care of itself.
For now I will do the same....take care of myself.

The End.

;ldskfa;jf;jrf

Doesn't the Marine Corps realize that there's a little person involved in this world now as they are jerking our chains around and changing their minds every 5 seconds to the point of confusing and freaking the hell out of me!

Apparently, Mike's commanding officer sat him down and told him there's a 75% chance that he will have a replacement and come home early. 75% chance?! 75 PERCENT?! What the heck is that supposed to mean? Are we supposed to be able to make plans around 75 freaking percent?!

At this point, I don't trust anything they tell us and I am almost desperately frightened of sticking around here even if they do tell us that there's a 100% chance that Mike has a replacement. If they change their mind... that would be it. Then I would be stuck here in San Diego and the only person other than Mike that I would want in the delivery room with me wouldn't be able to BE HERE... because she, like... works and everything. and I would be totally and completely royally screwed.

Trying to stay positive and not freak out. Trying desperately to go with the flow. but it's HARD, verging on impossible.