You have hiccups right now. That’s pretty cute.
We are guessing you weigh 3.5 or four pounds. That’s adorable, too.
We also suspect you are vertex (head down) at the moment. Right on!
Me? I am 32 weeks and have gained about 32 or so pounds and probably have another 10 to go. One pound for every week of pregnancy. Not so cute or adorable, but it’s my way. Our way. And I enjoy this time of occupying a bit more space in the world, even if it does cause me to heave as I roll over in bed at night. Oh, and I have night sweats!
My blood pressure and pulse and vitals are all good especially when I am diligent about taking my supplements. Magnesium has been my Savior during this pregnancy for helping to stabalize the roar-y mama mood swings and I doubt I’ll ever stop taking it.
I don’t do ultrasounds or tests or vaccines or drink sugar drinks to check for gestational diabetes or have cervical checks or get blood drawn. But I am like any mama; I think about things. I send down a holy offering each night that you are healthy and nourished and that I honor your divine purpose both in the womb and after your birth. And when folks say “Do you know what you are having?”, and I respond “Sure don’t!” and the next thing they say is “As long as it’s healthy, right?”…I always pause.
‘“As long as it’s healthy…” then WHAT? Then I will love you more, easier, deeper, harder? Because, what if you aren’t healthy? And these are the things I thing about. I think about them on behalf of all parents who have courageously birthed “unhealthy” babies, how it must feel for them to hear this casual remark.
If you aren’t healthy I have no doubt my love would be just as fierce and real and raw. And I’d fight for you, with you, beside you. And I would still be proud to share you with loved ones. And we’d descend and ascend together through every challenge, pressing our hearts together to make us both stronger.
These things I think about, I am careful to not let them become worries or manifest into real fears. Because what is to be will simply be. And no one can take them away, or pray them away, or cry them away. “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.”
And so mostly I spend my days with my hand on that one spot, that lump where your head or your bum is. It shifts everyday. And I breath down through the practice contractions, melting a bit into the sting and remembering what it feels like that moment the embarkation of labor begins. Sweet pleasure even among tinges of the unfamiliar and in the stretching and giving way of bones and flesh and blood. Like that feeling when you are front and center on a roller coaster and it begins its downhill flight…and your insides are suspended in your throat and you can’t decide if you are terrified or utterly thrilled. And sometimes it is just both, all at once.
November is here and we have spent it with windows wide open, breeze carrying the smells of the desert, and christmas music all day. I fold laundry and look down and there you are, among it all, always. In the middle of the swirl and the swell.
We will spend the rest of the months lazing in the parks, noticing the spotty clouds and warm sun, and welcoming the shift of light. You will likely be born just after the time when light begins to gradually give birth back to itself. And how fitting, to come as daylight opens herself once again; as I open myself again and bring you from damp darkness to shimmering illumination.
I await you.