I’m in my 39th week of pregnancy. My belly is huge and taut like a drum. Though everyone who sees me says I don’t look that far along. Well, I feel that far along. When the baby moves… and she does it frequently, she has periods as long as an hour at a time when she is constantly squirming… when she moves it doesn’t quite hurt (well, sometimes it does) but it definitely grabs my attention. It is frequently hard to find a comfortable position to sit, lie, stand, anything. When I walk for more than about ten minutes my whole belly contracts even tighter and I feel a huge need to sit down. With all that it is often tempting to parrot those ubiquitous words: I’m so ready for this to be over, I’m sick of being pregnant, I just want to put the baby down.
But am I really? I don’t think so. Sure when I get a quick jab to the pelvis that doubles me over I’m a bit out of sorts. And Dom says I’ve been moaning in my sleep. And I am full of anticipation. But that’s not quite the same as being fed up, now is it. On the whole I am content to be where I am. The baby will come when she comes and on the whole I suspect it will be pretty darn close to her due date. But if not, well, right now that doesn’t panic me.
I’m sleeping quite soundly at night now. Deep, restful sleep. Broken by several trips to the bathroom, true, but that’s kinda like sleepwalking, doesn’t realy bug me. I know once the baby comes these nights will be gone. And that will be good too. Not easy, but good.
I think I’m enjoying hte journey. The discovery, I love to sit back and feel that movement, try to discern hands and feet. I know I’ll miss it when it’s gone. And the same goes for babyhood. If I’m tired of anything now, it’s the advice. All the well meaning people whose comments on my experience seem to take away from what simply is: me, here, now, this child. Not interchangeable with any other experiences. Unique.
And so the wait continues.
