It's still not clicking.

Nope, I still can't believe it. My best friend who is barely 19 years of age, is five and a half months along. I'm not sure why it won't go through my head. Most likely because she's also my most immature friend, and least responsible, but I still love her to death. It's just extremely hard for me to picture her as a mother. Cooing and cuddling a little baby boy.
Perhaps I'm bitter, or jealous. Yes, bitterly jealous. Most people see her as having nothing right now. I, however, see her as having everything in the world. She has a boyfriend who puts up with her, and at times can be rather sweet, and a tiny little boy in her big belly. Pregnancy is without a doubt one of my biggest fears, if not the biggest. The thought have vomitting every day, and pushing a large object out of your jayjay does not at all sound appealing to me. Neither does being up every two hours of the night after he's born, or changing diapers and wiping spit up off your shirt all day. The thought of being completely and utterly responsible for a life other than your own is the most horrifying thought.
But then the jealousy hits. At the first ultrasound, it was not the tiny little peanut on the screen that brought me to tears, it was the look on her face. I had never seen her look happier in all my years of knowing her. Her smile lit up the dim room, and you could feel her excitement in the air. She has never been truely happy in her entire life, and we both used to dream of our futures. She got hers, and I'm still waiting. Of coarse, I am a little over two years younger then her, and I don't want to have a baby in me. But the thought of having something that's all my own, that will love me no matter what (until the teenage years of coarse) is the most appealing idea. To have something to care for.
But I will have plenty of caring to do come September. Little Aiden is going to tire his mommy and daddy out. She asked me to be his God-mother, and that is all I could ask for. The advantage to not being a parent, is I get to spoil him all I want, and buy him the loud squwaking toys. THEN I send him home to the parents, who get to thouroughly enjoy all the beeps and buzzers. I fully intend on being the best God-mother ever to that little baby, and I can't wait.