Buckle Your Seatbelt

I'm sitting at Bongo Java, alone, at the table in the back where J.P. and I have had a many a breakfast.  I got up a little early for a Saturday morning, hoping to beat the heat when I ran the trails at Shelby Bottoms and, also, hoping for a little quiet time to collect my thoughts.  It's nice, just listening to the sounds of people talking in the front room and of coffee and drinks being made.  I can hear Chad, Megan (J.P.'s favorite Bongo Java barristas) and a few other employees laughing and taking orders.  It sounds like home.

Where to begin?

Jude's pregnant.  Our doctor and friend, Roseann Maikis, gave us the green light at our visit with her on Wednesday to start spreading the news.  In classic Jude vs. Phil fashion, since Wednesday Jude has shared our news with only a handful of people, mostly immediately family and close friends.  I've told friends, co-workers, acquaintances, etc.  I haven't mentioned it to complete strangers, although I've been tempted to.  I can't stop smiling and, really, it was difficult for me to focus on anything at work this week.  Every few minutes, I took out the ultrasound pictures, looked at them, and started smiling again. 

It's weird - Jude and I were laughing about this the other day - but we can't remember much, if anythying, about her pregnancy with J.P.  We can't remember the details, at least, or what happens at particular doctor's visits.  You'd think she'd been pregnant with J.P. more than a decade ago, given how much trouble we have recalling what we learned then during the process.

We don't know if it's a boy or girl.  We'll find out at the 20-week ultrasound, which is scheduled for six or seven weeks from now (Jude's around 13 weeks now, give or take a few days).  We've got a long way to go and we realize that, but so far, so good.  I don't feel as nervous as I was when Jude was pregnant with J.P., but that may change. 

It's so amazing, so life affirming for Jude and me (and, yes, J.P.) to  be starting out toegher on this journey again.  It's kind of like taking a trip or a vacation and discovering a beautiful, idyllic spot with a wonderful view and, as you start to leave, feeling a little melancholy or nostaligic because you know, in your lifetime, you will probably never stand there with the same view again.  Somehow, miraculously, you find yourself back in that same spot a few years later and it's just as beautiful, just as breathtaking, as it was the first time you stood there.  Nothing has changed and everything has changed, but here you are, again.

That's how I feel.