Sometimes in the still of the night, when I’m up alone and accidentally steal a glance of my tummy in the mirror, I’m suddenly overcome with what I term as a mild panic attack.

It’s a little strange being swept by such varying degree of emotions.

A sense of awe that someone is really growing inside the tummy.

A little overwhelmed that this someone is actually going to come out one day and honestly, would I be ready? Someone with (perhaps) a totally different set of temperament and who will require a whole new set of parenting/problem-solving skills.

A bit panicky that this someone is going to be coming out in 2 months or so. And everything is all over the place. And thinking of coping along the other ad-hoc things that are expected of me, I have this urge to find a corner, curl up and sleep my life away.

But just as sudden as they descend, the thoughts are swept away and I have this (hopefully not misplaced) faith that everything would work out just fine.