little evidence to this fact other than my expanding waistline.
It still hasn't hit me that we are having a baby. I can wrap my mind around the concept, but imagining a child wrapped in a blanket in our home for whom we are solely responsible is sort of like imagining some fantasy vacation or something: you know it's possible, but it just doesn't seem real. Imagining little hands on Samson's nose and little feet tentatively navigating the rug I've had since Gabe deployed (the first time) is surreal.
Everything about this baby is surreal. It's a dream. Honestly. Little girls dream about their wedding and their kids... We marry our friends and mommy our teddy bears. I have loved this baby (and any children God lets us parent) since I realized I would get to be a mother one day. I have spent my entire life preparing to teach, to empathize, to discipline, to encourage this and future Sedberrys. I got the guy of my dreams, got to spend half a decade building on our foundation and now we get to meet our legacy... That's cool.