It's official. I'm exactly 12 days away from my official due date. While this whole due date thing is obviously not an exact science, it does mean that I'm really freaking close to giving birth to this baby. It could happen any day between now and 3 1/2 weeks from now.
I've known since Nicholas was two minutes old that I wanted more children. I didn't know how or when until the whole Liam thing happened, but I knew I was headed in that direction. Throughout our dating days and engagement period, Liam and discussed when we would have more kids and it wasn't too long after we officially tied the knot that we decided to make the big leap. Two months later, we sat in the living room staring at a little stick, Liam with a look of glee on his face and me with "Holy shit, what have we done?" screaming in my brain.
Almost exactly 8 months later, I sit here with an abdomen that greatly resembles a watermelon in both size and stripes, feet that don't fit any normal shoes I own, and ankles that lack anything even remotely close to ankle bones. And I wait.
Every day Nicholas and I discuss whether or not the baby will be born that day. Every time I drive by the hospital I say to my belly "We're right near the hospital. Any thoughts on coming out?". And every time I talk to a friend I repeat the same "No, there's no baby yet" phrase. And I wait.
On the one hand, I can't wait for this baby to be born. I'd really like my body back, and I'd really like to be able to walk up the stairs without feeling like I've just sprinted around the block. I'm also concerned about what I'll do if my sandals no longer fit. I also have to admit that the idea of wearing something other than my black maternity capris and Liam's U of L shorts is akin to the midwinter dreamings of warm spring mornings.
On the other hand, I've still got one foot firmly planted in "I'm not yet ready for this baby" world. The biggie, obviously, is going through labor. As much as I've prepared myself and created a support system which includes Liam and my doula Kara, it looms in front of me like a huge stormcloud full of unknown possibilities. There are also many small things which cause me to mentally hesitate. This may be my last pregnancy and I may never again experience the joys of feeling my child's body move inside of my own. Nicholas will never again be my only child. Our lives will be dramatically changed as a new little soul comes into our home.
I think it's a good thing that labor starts spontaneously. If I were able to control when it started, I'd wait until I felt totally ready and I can't say that that time would ever actually arrive. I'm ready, and I'm not. In the end the choice of when this baby arrives won't be up to me, but I do know that the moment my child is placed in my arms will be the exact right moment.
My Name is Not Megan
1 month ago