Everything I do seems like the "last"

before I have the baby. Last weekend, it was sitting with my friend at his flea market table. "the last time" I thought, I'll be able to pick up and go on a Saturday. This morning feels like my last blog before the baby. Right now is the last morning I'll ever wake up with these aqua blue carpets under my feet. In some weird way I feel like I'm betraying them by having them replaced. They got us through. They did okay. They're not in bad shape. We created a color story with them.

I woke up this morning at 4:30 and I should have tried harder to go back to sleep but I didn't. I want to be awake. I want to be preparing. And there's a strange sadness I'm feeling at the limits on my life, even thought it could probably never be any other way. There will forever be the other side of this hill...what could have been. The things I could have done. The men I could have been with. The things I could have accomplished. Since I wrote here last, this fascination with what didn't happen has been asleep. I'm probably writing today because I woke up at 4:30 this morning thinking about the things I might have missed. And maybe I'm tired and a little poetic this morning, but each thought I have is accompanied by lyrics, so, even though it won't matter to anyone else, I have to write them (even though I hate reading lyrics mixed into thoughts with no explanation), because I thinking somehow they must be saying things I'm not, and that's why they're in my head.

why do you try to hold on
to what you'll never get a hold on
you wouldn't try to put the ocean
in a paper cup

i have had something to prove
as long as i know something
that needs improvement
and you know that everytime i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most that we can do
is just to see each other through it

And I know what all this is connected to, but it's counter productive in many ways to write it all out. On the other side of all of this is my husband, who continues to prove to be amazingly loving, caring, respectful and thoughtful. I haven't mentioned before that he's brought me fresh flowers throughout the pregnancy. He let me pick the carpet. He let me buy a $70 basket rack for the baby's room because I really love it. He's let me sleep for months, expecting nothing from me. He moved our entire office down to the basement, and asked for no help. All he wants is for me to be comfortable.

And you will take the heaviest stuff,
and you will drive the car,
and I'll look out the window and make jokes,
about the way things are.