Maternal? What?

I'm finally to that point. You know the one...as soon as you are pregnant, every person you know tells you that "you'll love that baby more than you ever thought possible" and "you'll be perfectly content to spend hours just watching that little face." (We'll get to the "you'll never sleep, shower, have sex, etc.," later) I knew everyone claimed this, but I am so not the maternal type. I've never liked babysitting; I don't love shopping for baby clothes; my ideal day is not spent feeding and changing a little face and a little bottom respectively...you get the idea. My husband and I tried to get pregnant for quite a while, yet when I got pregnant, I had a royal freakout. My brain went a million different directions--wherewillhegotoschool, whatwillweclothehimin, whowillbabysitwhileidomyschoolwork, wherewilliwork, whatcollegewilleheattend--that is basically the chaos that ensued. Even after he was born, I stared at him in a strange sort of disconnected awe. How the heck did that little guy happen? What did I do right, or possibly wrong, to deserve him? After the hormone dump faded and I've had time to adjust to the mindboggling changes that having a baby brings, I am at that point. I love that baby more than I could have ever dreamed possible, and I could spend hours just staring at that perfect and hilarious little face. Every quirk of his eyebrows amazes me as he learns about this world and all of the strange people in it (like the one constantly staring at him...). He can bring me from tears of worry at the littlest sniffle or the fever I'm "sure" he has to smiles and giggles at his antics in mere seconds. I love that little guy and the guy who helped me make him more than anything in this world. I may not be the maternal type, but I love being maternal with this baby. I guess I've passed beyond the mom stage to the official "mommy" stage.