I originally envisioned having a way to do this that was along the lines of  “It’s Milla Time!”, but nothing really worked out. 

Today I am 11 weeks and 1 day along.   It’s a little shocking to know that I’m almost to the end of my first trimester, but it’s also moving a little too slow for me.   Those of you who know me are fully aware that patience is a virtue I haven’t exactly acquired yet.   It is something that I’m working on and it’s something that I’ll have to work on especially when Butterbean arrives.   Before I go any further, until my husband and I know what the sex of the baby is, we are referring to as Butterbean based upon its physical form in the first ultrasound.   So, moving forward any reference to Butterbean is none other than Baby Doser. 

Now, back to the end of my first trimester.   This morning is the first morning that I’ve started seeing a noticeable difference in my abdominal region.   Most women, or at least average, non-Hollywood, non-cellulite fearing women have some form of a little pooch.   It’s a part of the female anatomy, but for me I’ve always had the ability to suck it in and hide it, not anymore.    My belly has started developing a concavity about it that encourages me to rub my stomach.   I even find myself walking around today cradling the belly, almost desperate to feel even the slightest movement from my little Butterbean.   Which, according to one of my pregnancy books, Butterbean has developed a diaphragm and actually hiccups!  Can you believe that?  And I’m so excited and intrigued by it, that I’m desperate to speed up time just so that I feel that little kick or nuzzle from Butterbean. 

I’ve always held a certain level of insecurity, but also a level of pushing myself to perfection.   I’m a work-out addict, usually making sure that I burned at least half of the calories I would consume in a day.   I always thought there would be a problem with the fact that my body would not be perfect, that I would gain weight, and become less than average when I became pregnant.  It was a fear such as this that made me paranoid about becoming a mom.   I even suggested once to my husband that he sign a document stating that I could only gain 10 pounds during my pregnancy, that I needed to stay active, that I could only gain weight in my belly, and that it was his responsibility to make sure I followed these rules.   Crazy, I know!   But now, those fears are ridiculous.   With the exception of my face breaking out (which I’ve NEVER had this problem before) I’m starting to feel like I’m more beautiful now than I ever have been in my life.   I don’t know if it’s the fact that seeing this pooch in the mirror is transforming my view of myself in that I don’t just see the superficial anymore.   There’s a little being growing inside of me, a magically wonderful gift from God that my husband and I created together.   Maybe it’s the fact that between the two of us, we have made something so amazing and perfect.   I can’t really explain it, but bring on the pooch.   I’m literally looking forward to each day that it grows bigger and bigger and for the day when Butterbean decides to give me a swift kick as if to say, “here I am, Mom!”