Maybe if I keep telling myself that I'll believe it. Other than the exhaustion and the weird way I don't feel like eating anything but fruit (and now a big batch of spaghetti), I really can't tell a difference. So I love the little things that make me go hmmm, like the fact that even without eating, my jeans are now a little tighter and annoy me so I've begun unbuttoning them. Not even at the end of my first tri-mester and I'm already annoyed with clothes. Some are too big, some don't fit the same way.
I keep reminding myself to slow down, to not try and do absolutely everything all the time. To not take things too fast. I'm extremely cautious on the stairs, taking each step, holding the handrail. I'd like to get back to running soon, but I think it will be more walking/jogging. I'm taking this "sacred vessel" (as a friend keeps referring to me) thing very seriously.
I'm excited for these next few months, because they'll be when things like the heartbeat and finding out the sex will happen. First movements, etc. But I'm more excited for my baby daddy to come home from Iraq. He's excited, and having to remind himself to focus at work. And I just want him here. I know he worries a bit, so it'd be better if he could be doing a lot of the running up and down the stairs.
I know at some point I'll feel so pregnant I'll be wishing I wasn't, but for now I just keep saying it over and over, "You're going to be somebody's mama." And after the hyperventilation slows down I get a big smile and know I can do this.