Because I know how anxious I get when I’m following an “almost-due” mama’s blog, I thought I’d be kind and provide a pregnancy update to my scores upon scores of adoring, waiting, faithful readers (LOL) on the night following the new moon.
The news is that there is no news.
And I’m perfectly fine with that.
(Oh, and that if I’m up to it, I will try to post something brief when news occurs.)
The truth is, I feel really good. My energy has begun to pick back up and sustains me throughout most of the day. My “broken” toe ended up just being jammed, which my chiro swiftly moved back into place and which my acupuncturist/healer did miraculous work on as well through moxibustion. I’ve managed to finally have every single piece of laundry in my house washed, dried, sorted, and hung (gasp!) which will probably be the only time in the history of my family that this freak incident will occur. My constant heartburn has ceased (except for after eating a lemon popsicle), my only indication that my mystery baby is in a favorable head down position. Other than that, all bets are off as to whether this babe will arrive on this Earth feet first or head first. I’ve made peace with it – really envisioned and embraced my birth journey – either way. Baby is still very moveable in my belly, which continues to change shape most every day.
I’m sleeping good, taking more intentional time to reconnect with my daughter and my husband, and have experienced a renewed sense of calm and anticipation. Oh yeah, and my birth tub was filled Friday, which I’ve been enjoying immensely at least twice a day, as indicated in the photo below (my friend Maisha just called to say I had “the look” in this photo – she caught a sneak peak on Flickr before I posted this. I told her it’s my tired-Mama look which I get a few weeks before birthing, but who knows!?).
My body has been prepping itself with slight cervical changes that I’ve been feeling and a barely noticeable awareness of pressure in my yoni-region. Other than that, I’m trekking along, not experiencing that anxious desire for “baby to come out right now” nor that dread for the journey ahead of me. I will admit that the prospect of baby showing up on my due date in just four days is a bit daunting. I think I’d prefer next weekend, but hey…I’m up for anything. I’m holding, listening, floating silently, dreaming, creating, letting go, expanding, releasing, breathing-fire, and connecting. I’m in that baby dance mode, at times moving to the fleshy beat of the tango or sashaying smoothly and slowly to the fluid rhythm of the waltz.
I wrote last night to my womb-baby:
“Your birth and your life will be a gift to us, your family. You will renew our spirit, refresh our love, and infuse more soul in our lives. Honestly, it is still hard to comprehend that you will be here, in my arms at any moment. You are my voodou baby, who I feel twist and turn and kick and hiccup every day, and yet part of me has no concept of feeling you against my skin. I know I experienced this with Kaia too. But that precise moment that I saw her, I realized I’d known her forever. It will be the same with you, baby love. You have resided in my heart always.
As for your mysterious positioning, I believe it is not my job to worry. I released worry and concern long ago, because I remember that:
“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.” – Ambrose Redmoom.
There is no worry, no fear, in our relationship, sweet baby. I know, I know, I know that you know how to be born. I wait gratefully with arms and body wide open – however you decide to be born – and anticipate with sweetness the meeting of your knowing gaze.”
My plans for the next week include not much, which is how I really prefer it. I may get another chiro adjustment or two, attend my prenatal, and continue alternately lounging and nesting in my home. As a final touch, I’ve decorated my birth space in our bedroom with some thrift store fabrics and tapestries (you can see the mosquito net above the birth tub in the photos), as well as candles and sentimental objects.
One night, as we prepared to lay our tired bodies down for bed, my husband looked around the room softly aglow in candlelight. He turned to me and said, with a deep exhale: “This is a great place to birth a baby”.
I agree, my love. I agree. And birthing we shall be doing soon.