It took a while for me to figure out, a lot of stressing out about schedules and will-this-baby-come-too-early, but on Wednesday I had a photographer come to the house to do a maternity shoot. I’m only a hobbyist photographer – I have an eye, and I have decent equipment, but I don’t have the skill or experience. But I knew what I wanted and I knew I needed a professional for this, of all things. It was too important to me.

Sarah Gallagher was great, easy to work with. I am waiting excitedly to see the full album, but she just posted a sneak peek on her blog. So if you are interested, go check it out!

Maternity Session Sneak Peek

Today was such a beautiful day. Den has been working long hours for the past week, including Saturday and Sunday. I was about at my wit’s end with the house, the lack of help cleaning it, and my inability to do the big projects that I wanted to see done. So Den asked me for a honey-do list and Monday morning he set to work on it.

We didn’t get everything done, but we got a lot accomplished – especially him. I sorted through some bins of my things that he came across, cleaned the bathroom, filed paperwork. He tackled the bigger things like clearing out the entire breezeway (which has been our “haven’t gotten to it yet” holding area from when we had the floors redone – the only reason the rest of the house has been so nice and organized is because half of our belongings were piled precariously in the breezeway!). He also did manly jobs like replacing one of our ceiling fans, cleaning some mildew off of windows, and killing the ants that have suddenly invaded our breezeway. (I am not necessarily afraid of bugs, but I have a strong aversion to them. To that end, every time I’d peek in the breezeway for something I’d say, “Denis, more of them! Kill them, kill them!!” And he would.)

It was a beautiful May day, other than a very strange dark cloud that blew over suddenly, pelting down rain on a diagonal as the wind howled through the trees. The rest of the day was blue skies and light breezes. We had the windows open, the fans on, and sunlight streamed into our house. At one point I layed down on the bed for a little rest as Den cleaned and all I could think about was how beautiful the sunlight was coming in through the open windows. It felt so… alive… relaxed, peaceful. The TV was turned to the “Classic Rock” station, one of oldies and favorites, songs that made me hum and dance around in the living room. Den got a good laugh out of watching his very pregnant wife swaying and skipping through the house like a hippie chick, spinning in circles and giggling.

Today was a beautiful day. I am pregnant with an active, healthy baby, 1 day away from being officially full-term. My house is clean. I got to spend an entire day with my husband. I wish I could capture days like this, capture them like an image in a photograph so that I could pull them out on a dreary, tearful day. I wish I could sit in the middle of this day, this light, waiting for Kate to arrive. Sadly I cannot… but I have a feeling that May has many more beautiful days in store.

I am now (since it is after midnight here) 37 weeks, and full term. How amazing…. just amazing. Den and I are surprised that we are finding the waiting easier than expected now that the 36 week milestone has passed. I guess we both just figured that this last month was going to be awful, but to the contrary I’m finding it to be… fun. I am more pregnant than I have ever been, I still feel great, and Kate is doing fine. We’re both so excited to meet her, but we’re content to sit back and wait. Only 3 weeks until my due date… that feels just unreal. I feel so blessed to be here.

While we cleaned Den searched through the music channels (on our cable TV), skipping over the really hard rock stuff that he likes (and I don’t), settling on Classic Rock. After singing along to about five songs I asked him what station it was. I love it! Beatles, Eagles, all the good stuff from that era. Yes I may have been born in ’82, but that’s not necessarily what I grew up with. It is great to have music in the living room now. I have to admit, I am entirely sick of the current pop. Some of it can be catchy, but it’s really missing… everything. Some preggos crave certain foods… I apparently am craving certain music!

::

I got really excited when I read the article that Jaci left me in my comments (thanks Jaci!) about Optimal Fetal Positioning. It reiterates a lot of what I read on Spinning Babies (another great site, btw), but also stated some things outright that I had been wondering.

The first is that it did in fact confirm that babies tend to like facing their placenta, so me having an anterior placenta is certainly contributing to her posterior position. Doesn’t make it impossible to change, but I’ve noticed her preference from the start and thought, hmmmmm. It does make sense, too: if there’s this blob in the way the front of my uterus doesn’t make quite the same “nest” for her back the way a posterior placenta would.

Then it got me wondering about these contractions I’m having. Now granted I know that more frequent braxton-hicks contractions are common in subsequent pregnancies. But the website says this: “Braxton-Hicks contractions before labour starts may be especially painful, with lots of pressure on the bladder, as the baby tries to rotate while it is entering the pelvis.” I most definitely have a lot of pressure on the bladder every time I get a contraction, and I do not remember that from any contractions – braxton-hicks or full labor – with Devin. That was a nice little light bulb explanation for that fun side-effect. I’m left wondering, hmmm… maybe I’m having all these contractions because my body is trying to turn her? Interesting thought.

The other questions I’ve been asking myself are: first, how much should I stress about this; and, second, how hard should I work at it? It’s easy to get hung up on something. It’s hard weighing how important this is going to be during labor versus how much worry to expend on it. I don’t have any intention of spending the last 3-4 weeks of my pregnancy being anxious. Well there’s a few different things I’ve taken from the articles I’ve read:
– Baby can and likely will rotate during labor – it just might take some hard work (and pain) for my body to accomplish that.
– Babies are even more likely to rotate in a second (or more) pregnancy after having birthed an anterior baby (that’s me, yay!).
– In second+ pregnancies the baby doesn’t typically drop until later on, possibly even until labor starts, and they have more room to move.
– Sometimes even if you do everything you can a baby won’t turn. Sometimes you don’t do much and they do.
– A posterior baby who is refusing to turn even in labor can still be born vaginally (it just might be harder on me!).

So basically I’m going to do what I can in the next 3/4 weeks to encourage her to turn – it doesn’t hurt to loosen my ligaments and give her the best chance. But I’m not going to worry too much about it and I’m not going to get upset when she doesn’t suddenly turn tomorrow (or next week, or whatever). I’ll just know that I did the best I could and the rest is up to the baby in this case!

I’m also understanding how important it is – and will be – to listen to my body during labor (and before). Pain is a body’s way of telling you to do something. There’s a reason that I was feeling good on my hands and knees before I even thought about how she was positioned, something that I never felt a need to do with Devin. If my body is trying to turn the baby during labor I need to listen to it and help it out. The positions that relieve my pain are probably going to be the ones that are most helpful. Which means I can probably expect to spend a lot of labor on my hands and knees. I’m also trying to read up on the Spinning Babies positions for labor to try when the time comes, if it is needed.

I am planning a natural birth… by which I mean I intend to wait until my body goes into labor, not be given pitocin to augment contractions, and not have any kind of pain medications including analgesics (stadol, demorol – given through IV) or an epidural. Naturally when I mention this to people I get some strange looks and comments. I am also planning this natural birth in a hospital. This too gets some comments, coming from the other side of the aisle – many (but not all) of the community of natural birth advocates are very pro-homebirth. (Though I’ll mention that my midwives and hospital are very supportive, encouraging eating and drinking in labor, providing a birth ball and squat bar, and other very helpful measures.)

I started planning for a natural birth when I was pregnant with Devin. I read a lot, I took a Bradley class, I practiced relaxation techniques. But then he died. I was induced (with cytotec, not pitocin) – my choice, as they gave me the option of waiting for labor (a thought I could not handle, knowing my baby was already dead). I ended up getting half a natural birth: I was induced with the cytotec, I asked for a pain medication in early labor (because of my emotional state, not because it hurt too much). The medication wore off within an hour and I had nothing else in my system through hard labor, transition, pushing and delivery. You can read the full birth story here, if you are interested. But what matters now is that I know I can do it – and it wasn’t that bad. The pain of labor was nothing like the pain of an injury. It was just so different.

There are many reasons I have decided to go this route again, some of which are kind of silly/personal, some of which medical. But what it really boils down to is that I see labor and birth as a natural, normal, wonderful thing. Women have given birth for as long as there have been humans, and it really is such a miracle that our bodies are built this way. I believe that my body can do this, because that’s the way it’s designed to work. And I believe that our bodies work best with minimal interference – once you start adding medications and synthetic hormones to the mix it can start to mess with the carefully calibrated efforts of your body. So why not just let it be, to let it do what it knows how to do.

Of course I realize that it doesn’t always go as planned. We are, needless to say, slightly more skittish about this whole pregnancy/birth/baby thing than we were the first time around, having already had one baby die on us – this is the reason we both feel safer in the hospital, just in case. Even in homebirths, the midwife is there to guide, help, and be on the lookout for serious problems – there is always a chance of a transfer to a hospital for interventions. There are serious problems that can occur during labor, though they are thankfully very rare. Thankfully there is medical and surgical means to deal with those emergencies. If a problem occurs, then there is something to fall back on. But to me that’s a safety net, a just-in-case.

Not everyone sees labor the way I do, and that is fine. Many people are aiming straight for the epidural, and labor is just something that must be done in order to bring home the baby. Many people don’t really enjoy pregnancy, either. But to me, pregnancy is absolutely wonderful, and labor is a gift. I want to experience it. I am not afraid of the pain – respectful of it, absolutely… but not afraid. It is going to be very hard work, but work I am willing and eager to take on.

I see it as a marathon, or a big football game. It will be extremely physically taxing – it will be a challenge. Of course you know that you may not win, you know that no matter how much you prepare it’s never going to go exactly how you planned it. But you don’t sit around saying, “Well, it probably won’t work out anyways. I can always quit halfway through.” Those aren’t the people who succeed. You have to dedicate yourself to it, prepare yourself for it as best you can. You tell yourself you can do it. You arm yourself with skills and knowledge, knowing that anything could happen in the middle of the game. And then you go in and give it your all. Then, win or lose, you can walk away knowing you gave it your best.

For birth of course the true “win” is bringing home a live, healthy baby. That is, above and beyond everything else, the most important thing. I know too well. If my midwives – whom I trust – tell me that something is wrong, that the baby is in danger, then I will drop everything to do whatever it takes to get her out safely. But if everything looks good and she is healthy, then I plan to enjoy my labor, to cherish it, to experience it. If I have learned anything from our loss it is that anything can happen at any time – but you can’t live your life always preparing for the worst. You miss out on too much along the way.

Wednesday, my day of the week off work, I finally tackled a project I’ve been meaning to do for ages: I made this necklace.

Back when I was pregnant with Devin I joined a very pro-natural-birthing forum. One of the things they did was a group project, a birthing necklace. Everyone who participated selected a bead of natural material, something that spoke to them and purchased a package of them. We each wrote a little quote or message of encouragement to go with the bead. Every group participant received a bead from every other participant.

I had received my package in the mail of all these lovely beads and messages but not yet even opened or assembled it when Devin died. The envelope was packaged up and stored somewhere in the house, as I knew one day I would use it – I just didn’t know when. To be honest I’m pretty surprised that envelope stayed intact and in a place we could find it for over two years. But there it was. For the past few weeks I’ve been itching to tackle this project, but just didn’t have the time or energy to do so. Until Wednesday. I finally sat down to go through all the beads – the first time I’ve ever looked at them. I spent the sunny afternoon stringing together the beads and creating a couple of scrap pages of the quotes and positive encouragement.

It’s not really a necklace… more of a good-luck charm, a focus of positive intention. I hope that by bringing it with me to the hospital that it will remind me of the woman’s strength that I carry within me.

::

Kate and my body have both been toying with me the last few days.

Friday at work I realized I was getting regular contractions, and not the long, random BH I am used to. They were very light, barely noticeable, but – as I discovered when I started jotting down the times – they were coming every 5-10 minutes. For over an hour. I was pretty sure this wasn’t going to progress into real labor, but I called Denis to remind him to keep his phone on him, just in case. It was kind of exciting, both of us realizing that, wow, this could really happen soon. But of course, as I predicted, they fizzled out after another hour of me walking around and drinking some water.

I was a little thankful about that, because honestly I don’t want to go into labor at work. I’d have to figure out the logistics of getting me and my car home (since I would assume I’d be in early labor for some time before needing to go to the hospital, and it’s not like I’m going to stay at work!), when I should leave work, etc. I’d much prefer to start labor on my own time, at home, and be able to just sleep or putter until I was absolutely certain I was in labor. I definitely have an appreciation for my own home now – my own bed, my birth ball, the shower. I’m kind of looking forward to hanging out here in labor. It feels comfortable and familiar. I can see why people choose a home birth. (But then of course the dogs start barking frantically, irritating me, and I’m reminded of yet another reason I wouldn’t want to give birth at home. Their ear-piercing barks make it very difficult to remain calm and collected.)

But I did feel kind of strange the rest of the day, even though the contractions had stopped. She maybe felt a little lower, and I felt a little bit achy. But no show, no further contractions (other than the BH), no cramps… so we proceeded with our plans to go out for the evening to see a band play. I even got up and danced, which amused a bunch of people… I guess they don’t see very many full term pregnant woman up and dancing around. I swayed and moved to the music and it was a good time, though I was tired by the time we came home. We both fell asleep right away, ears ringing.

It was another night of hourly BH contractions, which means up and running for the bathroom every hour. Besides that I slept soundly. When I woke up Kate was squirming her feet around a little bit, and when I rolled onto my back to do a quick feel of her location I was utterly shocked to find my left side hard – hard like a body part, like a back ending in a rounded little rump. Holy shit I said and jumped up to tell Den. (He laughed at my excitement.) Of course she very quickly moved back to her typical posterior position, but it at least gives me hope that she will turn before or during labor. Maybe I just need to dance more.

Today was the fundraising walk for my local SHARE group, which we went to despite the early morning thunderstorms. I couldn’t find my umbrella, either, which was great. But thankfully the rain let up by the time we started our walk around the park and it was quite pleasant. A little chilly – I was wearing four layers: a tank, a tight tee, my light jacket, and then my “Walking in memory of Devin Alin” t-shirt on top. (Shockingly the medium fit me, even on top of all of that!) I thought I’d maybe do only half a lap, or just end up lagging way behind everyone… but nope. I kept up the easy pace everyone took and made it all the way around no problems. Yay me! Of course my belly felt heavy by the end and my lower back was a little tight… but nothing sitting down couldn’t fix.

Tomorrow I have tickets to go see a show, and I would really appreciate being able to see it! Denis is of course coming with me, just in case I do go into labor while there – a fact he is not thrilled about (the him being forced to see the show, not the me going into labor part). But after tomorrow? Kate can feel free to come any time she wants to. 38 weeks is a good, safe milestone and we are now just waiting for her arrival. What a crazy thought.

We both feel pretty much ready and have far more excitement than fear, even with the little bits of nagging anxiety that never leave me alone. She is still quite active, a huge relief to me. (There are days when she is less active than others, and those days the anxiety really creeps in unpleasantly.) I have my weekly NSTs, I do my daily kick counts (though I pretty much monitor her movement all day long – days when she’s super active I’m fine, days when she’s really quiet I am uber paranoid about kick counts in the evening). I feel physically very good still, she’s alive and well… so I have no problems taking this one day at a time. I’m looking forward to going into labor and hoping she doesn’t make me wait until June, but I’m still content to just let it be. There is a very short timer now and I am glad I get to enjoy these last few weeks. Life moves so fast…. two and a half weeks will be gone before we know it.

I feel like on “holidays” (or other such important days) I should at least attempt to stay on topic, but my mind keeps drifting to things like how my butt hurts and how much crap food I ate today. Obviously Mother’s Day is not such a big highlight in my calendar. And I don’t mean that it’s sad for me in a way that I want to pretend it doesn’t exist. It just seems like a silly day to me; unintentionally upsetting to some, brewing resentment in others, eliciting the typical “better buy a card and flowers for mom” effort in most everyone else. I’m just not a fan. I’d rather my husband do something nice to me just because, not because he felt he had to.

But regardless, I got a card in the mail from my MIL wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day, which was very thoughtful. She is always talking now about her grandmother’s necklace she has, the six stones it currently has and the three new stones it will soon be acquiring: Kate’s and my SIL’s twin boys’. Devin is #5 in that necklace. Again and again I feel blessed to have a family that recognizes him without question.

We had a good day, hubby, Kate and I. We went to see Lord of the Dance. I count Kate because I noticed her presence even more than I did my husband’s (who apparently dozed off a couple of times – just a tiny bit, he tells me later). Baby girl was squirming and stretching and kicking all day, especially during the show. I think she appreciated the strong beat of the music – and possibly all the crap junkfood we ate. Her darling little foot is now getting underneath my ribs, not just outside them. Both are equally uncomfortable, but at least when the foot is poking out I can push it down (I sat like that most of the time on the ride home – hand holding my ribs). When it gets underneath all I can do is yelp and sit up straight. Now granted it’s not wicked painful – yet. Most of the time she’s just squirmy and pushing upwards, but still every once in a while she gives a swift kick.

A very busy weekend for us, but we made it through. I was kind of hoping I’d get to enjoy this weekend before going into labor. Now it’s over and I have only this week left to work! Now she is welcome to show up this week if that’s what she so desires, but we’re really hoping that sometime next week is when she makes her arrival – after I’ve had a few days off of work, but not too many days to sit around and obsess. I’m starting to wonder if she won’t make us wait longer, though.

Den and I are both blissfully calm about her arrival. We have plans for when I go into labor about how to labor at home, when to go to the hospital, who to call, etc. We have the car seat installed, some of her clothes packed to bring her home in. We say things to people like, “Just two more weeks! Yes, we’re so excited!” We smile. We’re calm and prepared. … And we both admit to each other that it’s in large part because it’s so otherworldly it doesn’t feel real. Labor I can wrap my brain around, because I’ve been there before. I have a frame of reference for that. But when people ask if we’re ready for her to arrive? Well, we have her room pretty much ready, all her clothes washed, her diapers prepped, her cosleeper set up. Does that count? But, ummm, we can’t picture actually bringing a baby home. So, no, no we’re not ready. We’re never going to be ready. The moment will arrive and we’ll both be all, “Holy shit!” I can pretty much guarantee it.

So what new and exciting discomforts comes with nearing 38 weeks? Ummm, nothing. Devin died shortly before 36 weeks of pregnancy. I was feeling good still, not very uncomfortable. I’ve always had it in my head that my pregnancy ended before the last month, before things really got awful like people say it does. I prepared myself for the worst. It hasn’t happened yet. I’m starting to think that it won’t. I feel a little weird sometimes… every other pregnant lady around me is moaning about the horrible back/hip/pelvic pain and I try to be sympathetic without letting on that I don’t have any of that.

I am certainly getting bigger, though. Not huge, by any stretch, but the belly is full and round. And no, no stretchmarks so far. The linea nigra did finally show up, very lightly. Belly button did not pop, but that is probably in large part due to the anterior placenta and posterior baby, not much pressure from inside. (You can go check out the belly pics page, I finally uploaded the 37 week ones.)

It’s not all shiny peaceful and calm. I have my moments. Such as the following:

Den walked into the bedroom tonight to find me sitting up in bed, hands on my belly.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m tired…” I stalled.
“You’re watching your belly.”
“Maybe. She hasn’t moved much the last couple of hours…”
“Natalie. How long ago did you take that video of her?”
“Ummm. Right before you got home.”
“Don’t you think she deserves to sleep sometimes?”
“…. Maybe…”

He kissed my forehead, patted my belly, and got in bed.

Of course 30 seconds later the little goober pushed her foot out and wiggled it around a bit, after which I was able to roll over and stop staring intently at my belly.

::

The last couple of days I’ve gotten a couple of little cervix twinges that felt like a poke. Today it’s been far more frequent and pronounced. I wouldn’t say painful, but they certainly make me twitch. It makes me wonder if she’s getting lower in my pelvis. Hopefully it’s just one more sign of progress.

The braxton-hicks contractions are a permanent fixture. They’re getting stronger, which is totally normal. Den’s used to me randomly making a face and shooting a dirty look in the direction of my belly, generally accompanied by pronounced waddling in the direction of the nearest bathroom. I keep thinking how it’s one thing to have contractions while in labor, when that is your purpose, your goal, your focus. It’s another entirely to deal with contractions while at work, at the store, at a social event. And everyone looks so damn panicked when you mutter the word “contraction.”

I have to say, it cracks me up when pregnant ladies talk about the “fake” contractions, the braxton-hicks. They thought they were having contractions, but their doctor says they’re not in labor so it was “just fake ones.” Contractions are contractions. They might feel a little different, but even braxton-hicks contractions can be working to soften and dilate the cervix – it’s just that you’re not in full-blown labor yet. Many books refer to them as “pre-labor,” which is a hell of a lot more accurate!

If I’m sitting still I actually have a warning sign when a contraction is about to start: Kate kicks me about 5 times, even if she’s been sleeping. Kick kick, punch wiggle, kick, contraction. Then a long stretch of nothing. Then another 4 kicks before I get another one. Obviously she’s feeling them before I do!

::

I’m really nesting in that way the books warn of in the ninth (tenth?) month: the need for privacy, for quiet, for seclusion at home. Home is very important to me right now. It’s not “clean,” exactly – I’ve been eying the dustbunnies under the fridge but so far have not dug up the energy to deal with them. Or the piles on my desk and the washer and the dining table. But there is something about sitting in my living room during the day, when the sun is filtering through the windows and lighting up the house, that just feels so damn peaceful.

I’m also feeling very protective of my space. I’m very protective of my personal space to start with. You might not really think it with how emotionally open I am with my writing online, but I’m highly introverted. I find people interaction to be in large part enjoyable, but highly draining. I have always had to limit my time around other people so that I can go back to my “den” and recharge my batteries. Plus I’ve always been… errr, well, “possessive” is a good word. If I could I would draw a large circle around my personal space and zap people who tried to step over when I’m not feeling in the mood (which is most of the time). Well it’s a lot more pronounced now. My patience is thin, and my energy is down. Add to that the introversion that comes at the end of a pregnancy when you get all focused on the baby and have little interest in anything else going on around you, and I’m pretty much a big lumbering mama nesting until the birth.

So yesterday was my 38 week appointment. First off I have to say that I’m getting a little tired of the appointments. Obviously I realize keeping a close eye on pregnancies near the end is a good idea, and every week I look forward to my weekly check-in. But then I get there, and I wait, and I have to deal with nurses and this and that and more waiting and everything checks out fine.

One thing I do appreciate about these weekly NSTs is that at least I’m familiar with the evaluation and treatment (triage) environment. I have to say, being on a monitor in a little curtained-off room for 20 minutes before I’m admitted in labor is going to be a pain in the ass. It’s not bad for the NST, but when I’m contracting and just want to be in my own labor room? Yeah, not going to be all that much fun. Maybe that’s a reason to go in a little bit earlier, rather than when I need to just be left the hell alone.

I also realized that, contrary to expectation, I’m probably going to have to mute Kate’s heartbeat while I’m laboring. I thought it would be comforting and reassuring, but instead I find while I’m laying there that it makes me a little jittery and I have to constantly check it. Especially yesterday when she kept moving out of range. I’ll need to periodically check-in to make sure everything’s good, of course, but I’m also going to need to be able to just focus on my body and the contractions.

After the NST I saw a midwife – one I hadn’t met before. She took the time to read my chart first thing, yay. Other than having to explain several things again, I liked her. She read over my birth plan again (third midwife to do so) and reiterated that it’s all very reasonable, very “normal,” and most of it is standard practice by the midwives/this hospital anyways, though I will have to remind the nurses to delay the newborn procedures and hour because they might just forget during the birth and do their usual routine. (Which isn’t a huge deal to me anyways, but I’ll certainly remind them that I just want to hold her for an hour!) So my blood pressure was normal, weight was fine, measurement normal. The midwife estimated she weighs about 6 1/2 lbs. All is good and happy.

The midwife asked about my labor with Devin (induced, 6 hours, very easy physically). She reminded me that typically second labors are faster than first ones. I then told her how Kate is posterior so I’m expecting a bit of a harder time of it, a longer labor. So while she was palpating my belly she frowned and said, “Why do you think this baby is posterior?” I pointed out: ultrasound, kicks all over my belly, punches all across my lower front, among other things. “Well, I’m feeling a lot of baby body on your right side right here.” She put the doppler on my right side and there was her heartbeat. AHHH, she did move!! I was simultaneously thrilled and thinking well that figures, she [Kate] of course makes me look like an idiot! I told the midwife that I hope she stays that way!

Well she of course swiveled back to posterior for the day, but then later in the evening I got the hiccups on my right side. They are NEVER on my right side, always lower left. It made me say hmmmm.

Today she’s been doing her usual thing, feet traveling all the way across my ribs while we went to a movie, hands dancing all over. And then, again, this evening it changed: all kicks and punches were felt on my left side only. I did a quick feel and ho-ly crap I can feel a BUTT on my right side! Even Denis can feel it! She currently has the hiccups… right side again.

Now I am not expecting her to stay here permanently, but the very fact that she is starting to spin around in different positions is great! It means that she’s not locked into one position and she can move when she wants to – which means she’ll probably turn before or during labor. I don’t know if it’s all my time spent walking, dancing, leaning over the birth ball, sitting on the birth ball, and stretching out on hands-and-knees…. maybe she would have done this anyways. But who cares!

Maybe I ought to start mentally preparing myself for a quick labor, just in case. ;) It will certainly be interesting to see how this goes! It’s the great mystery of childbirth…. timing and content. It’s so weird to be waiting for such a huge surprise like this and not even know when it’s coming. It’s even weirder that I, of all people, am excited about this. (I have a “thing” about surprises – I generally hate them.) It’s like I’m getting to the end of a story and I am just so eager to see how it all comes out.

I don’t think I have ever felt as beautiful as I feel pregnant. I look at pictures of myself from even the beginning of this pregnancy and it’s not just a different person. It’s a different world. Not only have I become more in touch with myself, but more in touch with the world, with the mother earth. I am the mother earth. I embody serenity, contentment. I embody peace.

In a way I wish I was more uncomfortable, more tired, more unhappy – because at least then I’d be ready to let this go. I am 38 weeks 3 days and I am still not ready. People laugh and joke with me about how close to the end I am, how I must be done with it and eager to move on. I go with it, telling a half-truth. I am ready to meet her, to know the ending of this particular chapter – but I am not ready to let go of who I am.

Den laughed at me as I walked by him today, laughed in that indescribably happy way he does when he sees me now. I struck a pose for him and pointed at the belly. “It’s my globe!” But isn’t it true in more ways than just physical looks. This is my world. She is my world. The galaxy on the cat’s collar, except I carry it in my center.

I was just finishing that post yesterday evening, editing the photos, as I checked some of my forums and stumbled across a post so shocking that I lost my sense of direction. Someone I know was losing her baby – and it wasn’t the first one she’s lost. This was her “finally” pregnancy – her pregnancy after a terrible loss and many struggles. She had just a day ago posted about how happy she was, how blessed. She is another one of those who lives with such joy it shows through her words and pictures. But then, in one day, it all went to hell. Incompetent cervix, very premature labor. The doctors tried to stop it, but then an infection started. There was nothing that could be done. People were praying for a miracle, but I knew how bad it was.

I sat here in bed and stared at the post I’d just written and just started to cry. It was all mixed up – my grief for her, my knowledge of how fickle life is, my fears for myself. All I could think was how she must be feeling, how her heart must be breaking into so many pieces. I remember how it felt the first time. I can’t imagine going through it again.

Today everyone from the forum was waiting on updates. They came, and it was not good. Their baby boy was born this afternoon at only 20 weeks. And all we can do is weep.