Tough Questions

I've been neglecting my baby. No, not the one in my belly. I've been neglecting my blog! Forgive me.

As much as I wish I could be posting anecdotes and advice taken from my experiences as a mother-to-be on a daily basis, I'm afraid school work has completely absorbed my attention. I went home to Louisville for the weekend to attend a doctor's appointment, do some laundry and regroup. Now I'm right back where I was last week- miserably propped in an uncomfortable wooden chair at the library.

The other day, I was prompted to consider these last few weeks of the semester. How will I remember my days in college? When my daughter asks me about my collegiate career, what will I tell her?

I could tell her about the time I went to my first and only frat party and drank way too much wine from a box. I could tell her about the news story I wrote on a competitive square dancing team. I could even tell her about the spring afternoons I spent playing volleyball when I should have been studying.

Sometimes I can't help but wonder if I've been too dismissive about college as a general rule. I've never liked school period- not since I was in kindergarten. I know I should have worked harder and cared more about my classes, but what about the other experiences? I never pledged to a sorority. I never joined an athletic team. I didn't go to school with people I had known for years.

So what will I tell my daughter?

I will probably tell her about meeting her dad in the newsroom at our college paper and how we laughed at our professors over countless mediocre dinners in the campus cafeterias. I'll tell her about finishing up college and being pregnant at the same time. I started this blog in February of my last semester, and it has led me to meet and speak with other pregnant students who just want to talk through their excitement and terror. I will tell her about running to the corner store on campus for Lunchables at 10 p.m. because sometimes one dinner isn't enough for a pregnant woman.

I haven't had a normal college experience, but my regrets are very few. Sometimes I wonder what my life would look like right now if I wasn't expecting a baby, and then I promptly scoff at myself and remember that it doesn't matter. I am where I am for a reason, whether that be at a table in the library or the waiting room at my OB's office.

I have a feeling that when my daughter asks me questions about my life, I'll have plenty to say. Maybe by then, some of it will make sense.