37 Weeks

37 Weeks

• 4.03.2010

I am 37 weeks pregnant. Technically, this baby is considered full-term, but I have a feeling he wants to bake a little longer. I’m suffering from all the typical ailments of a woman about nine months pregnant: I’m short of breath after climbing just one set of stairs. I do what I’ve come to call the “squat, grunt, and struggle” to pick things up off the floor. Little feet in my ribs are uncomfortable.  My fingers are starting to feel like sausages and my ankles have decided to take on water.  Also, of course, my lower back aches from time to time as do the muscles and ligaments in my tummy. Overall, however, I still feel pretty good! I’m sleeping fine. I still have plenty of energy to clean and cook and finish projects. I’m delighted that the weather is beginning to change. I feel happy!

I’m thrilled at the thought of becoming a mommy so soon! I nervously laugh when I say it though because this mothering thing is going to be a permanent change. Despite that, I still want it. I’m curious to see what our son is going to look like. (What color hair will he have? Will he have Bron’s perfectly straight nose or my funny ears?) Better yet, I can’t wait to see his personality develop. (Is he going to be stubborn and competitive just like his parents, or will he be completely opposite?) I can’t wait to see those gassy grins and watch his thighs balloon into fat drumsticks as he grows. I’m eager to witness his first milestones like walking and talking. I’m excited to see the world through the eyes of a child and to laugh at his innocent logic. But first, I can’t wait to snuggle his tiny body and touch his delicate fingers. I want to swaddle him up tight and just love him. I’m actually looking forward to nursing—if I can figure it out!

As much as I’m looking forward to having this baby on the outside, I know I’m going to miss this intimate time with my baby on the inside. We share a body! I’ve sustained his life for the last three quarters of a year; it really is a miracle. I can feel his every move. My stomach has a mind of its own. I lie on my side in the wee hours of the morning feeling my belly rise up on one side and then fall. I place my fingers on his little foot and he moves it away. I love my baby and we’ve never even met face to face. These are special moments, just my baby and me.

Now, if someone could tell me just how many hours my labor will last, I would be most grateful!  “I think I can! I think I can!”