I don't know if it's pregnancy hormones, or Lady O herself, but my golly did I cry during Oprah's final bow yesterday. Over the years her "aha moments" did sometimes grate on me, and her admiration for Babs or Tommy Cruise, but her last goodbye was beautiful. The last time I regularly watched her show was in high school: me on the recliner, my childhood best friend on the couch, and I've only revisited her during these dog days of unemployment, but boy if she'd didn't grab me in again.
After almost three months of yearning for nothing but work, I'm suddenly - to my befuddlement - kinda scared! I start on Tuesday and I have not started a new job in five years. I am a creature of habit: I have my spot on the couch, my side of the bed, and (I did have) my mindless commute. I've glad to have the opportunity to use my brain and get my mind off another anxiety: the baby. When you don't particularly feel pregnant, nor do you particularly look pregnant, you start to wonder: that thing still in there?!
Last week my ob/gyn took several minutes to find the baby's heartbeat with her doppler. Last time it was instantaneous. She assured me this was normal, the baby moves, and that perhaps I should get an ultrasound to confirm all is alright, when, bam, there it was: tha-ump, tha-ump - so quick and rhythmic and beautiful.
I hope everyone has a spectacular Memorial Day weekend. Matt and I are going to the beach for a few days (the calm before the storm, I suppose); photos to follow (but of course)!