"It's not the end of the world"

My youngest sister recently said this to me in regards to the fact that I'm pregnant, as if I was being ridiculous in expecting love and support, and yes, a little tolerance and empathy, through this process.

Of course, I know that teenagers are generally self absorbed, selfish and snarky, and my sister is definitely still a teenager, but it still hit me pretty hard, and I have been thinking (see: overanalyzing) that statement ever since.

And as I was walking around Hayward this morning, stopping to pick up a movie to rent later this evening, to buy some chips and avocados for the homemade nachos I'm planning to serve with our screening for two of Thor, to visit my local Starbucks and try the new Pumkpkin Spice Latte (decaf) and Pumpkin Scone that another of my sisters highly recommended, I realized how I felt about that caustically made remark.

Yes, it is the end of the world.  My world.  So much so that it is almost laughable, at least smile-able.  Normally, on a Friday night, I would be out dancing, or having cocktails, or wandering into the nightlife of a local big city.  I would be ordering take out, or going to a restaurant.  I would sure as hell order that latte with as much caffeine as they could load in, and honestly, I would not have wandered wistfully around the streets of Hayward for more than an hour thinking about how cute my city is.
I am barely 12 weeks pregnant and already my vision has shifted.  I see things differently.  I want different things.  I don't stay in now because I can't go out, but because I simply no longer have the desire to.  I don't eat in more now because I can't go to a restaurant, or can't afford to, but because I feel best putting food I make into my body.
Lights shine brighter, the air smells sweeter, the future holds so many more possibilities, and you know what?  I like the end of that other world.
For 32 full years I have given and given, always putting others first, actually searching out people to serve and to take care of.  Now, for the first time, I'm putting myself first.  Again, it's funny to say that now, because the reality is that putting myself first really means putting my unborn baby first, but so be it.
It is the end of the world.
And I'm so glad.
I love this new world I live in, and I'm looking forward to it only getting better.
Which means, of course, that I have no energy, or space, or patience, for negativity, for meanness, for snarkiness, or for selfishness.  Nor do I have time to feel bad about that.
It is, after all, the end of the world.