South Of The Border!

The other day I went to visit my friend Betsy at her house.

Betsy is pregnant as well, but she is about 9 weeks ahead of me. She is also expecting twins. And every time I lodge a complaint about the discomfort of bulging tummies or heartburn or fatigue, I feel a slight pang of guilt because I know she has twice the baby inside of her.

I may have a basketball shaped tummy, but at this point Betsy's tummy is shaped more like that of a Beach Ball. Not one of the small ones, either. Next to her, I looked like I was ready to model swimsuits, and I know that isn't the case based on the number of strangers who have asked me what I was having or how many weeks I was. (Most of these inquiries are met with a blank stare, as I honestly have no idea what they are talking about for a number of seconds. Having? Did I order something? Weeks? Does she think I'm someone else?)

In any case, I am looking forward to Betsy having her baby girls. As Betsy is, I am sure. But my reasoning is a bit less unsound. Betsy having her babies is one of the land marks I have noted in my journey to having MY child. It's like driving to Disney World and passing South Of The Border! The roadsigns inform you it's coming up in 200 miles... 150 miles... 125 miles... 100 miles... 90 miles... 80, etc. and even though you know you're not stopping there, you're actually headed to Florida and to Disney World, passing South Of The Border! will bring you THAT MUCH CLOSER to your final destination. As Betsy's Babies will somehow bring me that much closer to mine.

Yes, I know, I am insane.