It's a strange sensation. You go about your normal day to day tasks, but in the back of your mind there is this ticking down; an invisible and silent countdown that your body feels and marks. It takes a second to realize that feeling - that anxious anticipation - is your psyche and body preparing for the baby's arrival...despite the not knowing when she will decide to make her debut. When does this countdown actually come to zero? And the most odd part of this whole internal sensation is the feeling of dejavu that you get each time that you consciously notice the countdown taking place. Like reality hits home harder and your heart skips a beat, and your breath escapes your body more quickly before you realize that you already knew this...that you've been here before, that you know what is coming next...
It's like reading a well written book, one that has kept you riveted in anticipation of what will happen next - you can feel the pages getting thicker and thicker in your left hand... and thinner in your right. You know the end is coming... you have no idea how the author is going to leave the story - will the good guy win? will the heroine die? will it be a happily ever after or a joke's on you for emotionally buying in too soon? You know you cannot break the cardinal rule of skipping to the last page to ease your raging curiosity. Part of you considers not reading any further, just to prolong the moment, but your hand automatically turns to the next page without your permission... one less page in the right hand; one more page in the past. You try to stop speed reading, to enjoy each verb and noun - but your eyes race from line to line, paragraph to paragraph; another page leaves your right hand...floats through space... one page closer to the end of the adventure... another shaky jump in your level of nervous anticipation.