I have some things to say.

I've been dying to write a real blog post for awhile. Unfortunately, my life can be summarized like this: Eat, Sleep, Work (with a little knitting thrown in). Working fulltime has utterly consumed my life. I have no time to relax or play. The weekends are jammed with errands and catching up on projects. Writing is something that is good for me, but not something that is particularly easy. I'm a self-critical perfectionist and I have a bad habit of rarely re-reading my writing. But here I go. Sometimes things just need to be said and I've been holding a lot of this stuff in to discuss at Some Point In The Future. I guess that time has come.

I adore pregnancy. I really really do. It's absolutely amazing. Sure, my back is a little tired and my esophagus is burning, but I love it. My energy is relatively good, my body is happy (other than the cold I've been fighting), and I'm constantly in awe of the state of miraculous cellular generation that I am gladly hosting. If being a parent is half as cool as being pregnant, I'll be a happy woman.

People are liars. Pregnancy does NOT drag on and on. It flies by and leaves you in the dust wondering, "Wait. Where'd my second trimester go? He weighs 3 1/2 lb now?! What happened to, 'Your baby now has a functioning spleen'?" I wish I could make it go by more slowly. I want to cherish every moment but instead I'm still trying to figure out what day I first felt him kick so I can write it down somewhere. My first failure as a mother.

I'm starting (only slightly) to dread not being pregnant anymore. I'm going to miss him in there. I love his kicks and his hiccups, the cool belly accessory (a whole new category of clothing is flattering now!), the convenient resting place for mugs of tea and Carl's hands, the magic of discussing my son without hearing people squeal and talk like idiots to him (jeez, I hate babytalk), the fleeting magic of every day. I've heard women say that pregnancy is the happiest time of their life and I can totally believe it.

I feel incredibly blessed. As I watch my body fulfill its womanly purpose, I see myself beginning to fulfill mine. Here I stand - round belly, swollen boobs, the mother of a dancing fetus - about to embark on two amazing journeys. Well, one journey, two parallel paths. I hold an empty car seat in one hand and a stethoscope in the other. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have discovered the purpose of my life and be blessed enough to be able to pursue it. This is what I was made for - in the same way that my womb was made to hold life and my breasts were made to sustain it, my mind was designed to drink in knowledge of the human body and my hands were destined to be small but significant tools in God's ministry to His children. This is my purpose. I've always believe that it is - to be a mother, to be a physician - but now I have tangible proof. This is only the beginning. A small promise of things to come.

The original Declaration of Geneva

At the time of being admitted as a Member of the medical profession

• I solemnly pledge myself to consecrate my life to the service of humanity :
• I will give to my teachers the respect and gratitude which is their due;
• I will practice my profession with conscience and dignity;
• The health and life of my patient will be my first consideration;
• I will respect the secrets which are confided in me;
• I will maintain by all means in my power, the honor and the noble traditions of the medical profession;
• My colleagues will be my brothers
• I will not permit considerations of religion, nationality, race, party politics or social standing to intervene between my duty and my patient;
• I will maintain the utmost respect for human life, from the time of its conception, even under threat, I will not use my medical knowledge contrary to the laws of humanity;
• I make these promises solemnly, freely and upon my honor.

I can't wait.