I have loved my husband from the first day I met him. My love is overwhelming, almost embarrassing, sometimes crippling. I love him more than I ever thought one person could love another.
And as we experience this pregnancy together, the impossible is happening. I am starting to love him even more.
He took a while to get involved in the pregnancy, perhaps because he feared loss, perhaps because it's just so abstract to men. But nowadays he is just as devoted and educated as I could hope him to be, and frequently mentions little tidbits that I didn't know (or perhaps had read and forgotten). For example, last night he told me it was a good thing I was nice and cool, because this week the baby's teeth are forming, and if I was overheated then there would be problems forming the enamel. As he spoke I vaguely recalled our midwife saying that she'd gotten the flu when pregnant, and that had resulted in her daughter's teeth being ill-formed. But the fact that he remembered that, put it into context for our pregnancy, and spoke it to me in such a knowledgeable way? My heart melted.
Then there is the sentimental side. For the past few weeks he has been insisting that he is creeped out by the thought of feeling the baby move (he's seen the Alien movies way too many times, I guess). But now that the possibility is getting closer - I've felt the baby move a couple of times - he seems to be a lot more open to the idea. In fact, he seems almost - dare I say it? - a bit jealous of the fact that I can feel something and he can't (yet)!
This is evidenced by the very nonchalant, casual way he put his hand on my belly on Sunday night as we lay in bed chatting before sleep. He lay his hand on me for a moment and was very still. "What are you doing?" I asked. "I'm listening with my hand," he said, a touch sheepish.
Oh, the love. Is there anything in the world like watching a man fall in love with his child?