Under normal circumstances, anyway. But nothing about pregnancy is normal, which I suppose is why I woke at 3 a.m. today with one of my incessant urges to pee. Now, having to pee in the middle of the night is fairly normal this late in the baby-growing game. What wasn't normal was that when I crawled back into bed beside my slumbering husband, I wasn't able to join him in dreamland. And he wasn't snoring or anything. I was just...awake.

After lying in the darkness for nearly an hour, pondering important things like what sort of cake I should make for Lucy's upcoming birthday party, and what I should wear to church on Sunday, and whether I will have time stop and buy stamps today, I finally climbed out of bed, grabbed a book, and settled in to the comfy green rocking chair in the baby's room to read for awhile.

She and I were the only ones awake. I could feel her wiggling in my womb, and I thought how funny it is that soon--so soon--we'll be spending many early-morning hours like this, cuddled in the green chair where I always nurse my babies. Together, while the rest of the family sleeps. Right now we're together in the truest sense possible, sharing this one tired body, but she feels far away. She's still a mystery-baby, a stranger I'm expecting. I haven't yet looked into her eyes.

But soon I will. Soon, she will be here in person, not just the belly-bulge of her but the real thing. Soon, I will dress her in those tiny clothes I carefully washed and dried and folded yesterday, and I'll wrap her in the quilt I made, and we'll sit together in the green chair again.