Other Mother Rant

I'll start with that "other mother":
OTHER[uhth-er]:
1. additional or further
2. different or distinct from the one mentioned or implied

3. different in nature or kind

4. being the remaining one of two or more

When I think of being a mother, the words "additional", "different" or "remaining" don't give me that warm, fuzzy feeling. But the alternative of "non-bio mother" sounds like a science experiment. It makes "other mother" sound pretty attractive.

On that note, I'll get to my real point. I feel helpless. Nickie's coming into the home stretch and feeling it. During the discomfort, shortness of breath, constipation, vurps, 'roids and cankles, I act as an empathetic witness. There's not a lot I can do but rub her feet and hope additional symptoms will pass so she'll feel better. I'm sure men go through this, feeling edgy and unsure. I have some secondary feelings of responsibility; it could have been me instead.

Since I'm the other mother and can't carry for her, I scramble to look for things to do or clean or buy to prep for the impending peanut. I'm happy to say it's made me very productive; we have a newly painted, carpeted, furnished nursery all set up. But now that everything is done, I'm twittling my thumbs in an attempt to repress my desire to online shop for baby clothes. I wish I could do more.

Whine, whine, whine.... Ok. I'm done. (I wouldn't be a woman if I couldn't find something to bitch about during the happiest time of our lives, right?)

Nickie's looking super cute. Here's her 28 week photo. We can see her belly move now when the baby whips out her Chuck Norris moves. Nugget and I have had some quality time when Nickie's sleeping. I like to think she acknowledges me, because she always gives a few good kicks when I put my hand on Nickie's belly in the morning before I get up for work.

-Ros