Still pregnant

I’m just going to jump into this thing as though it hasn’t been several months since I last stopped by. Okay? Okay.

Here I am, six short weeks before my due date. We are (about 98% sure) having a baby girl and in general, this pregnancy has been about as normal as can be. There are no red flags and all is progressing well. As far as we (including the medical folks involved) can tell, this baby is healthy and there is no reason for worry. And yet, I worry, because I am about to be a mom and that is what mom’s do. I love this baby with all my being, and I am so anxious to hold her that it’s practically all I think about or dream about. The first time I hold my baby, the millionth time I hold my baby, I cannot wait.

I am huge. Not overly huge, but certainly huge. I carry this belly around 24 hours a day, and yet when I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror or see a picture Brett has taken of me, I am chronically astounded. I cannot believe how rotund my mid-section is. I am not remotely upset by this; instead I am exceedingly proud of my belly and will miss it. Aside from the fortune of having my new born in my arms, I will miss being pregnant. This is not to say that I am not miserable for a good portion of the day, for I certainly am, but I do enjoy all the thrills of being pregnant and doing this thing that only us womyns can do. It’s exhausting, uncomfortable, sometimes entirely unpleasant, but also it’s pretty awesome. Also, I like being able to bring her wherever I go and am so not thinking about the day I have to return to work and leave her at home. I like taking her with me.

Our goal is a “natural” birth. That is, one with no pain medication and as little intervention as possible. We took the class, Brett has a card in his wallet indicating that he is a “certified coach,” and I am appropriately motivated to DO THIS. However, I have no idea what “this” is going to be like and I just hope that whatever happens, I wind up with a healthy baby and that I too am healthy and that this is enough. I do NOT want this to be about the birth, but about the baby and this family: Baby, Me and Daddy. That’s all that needs to matter.

I just am so anxious for the time to be here, where I am in labor and we are officially on our way to holding our baby. I keep imagining the moment where she emerges and I really think I might die of emotion (and relief). I truly cannot imagine how big this moment is going to be and perhaps I’m over dramatizing, but I kind of don’t think so. This is the single most ridiculously amazing thing that I have ever endeavored to do and I fully believe that it will be emotionally all consuming and I want to have all my faculties about me for this.

Everyone tells me to “sleep now.” Yup, sounds like something you should say to a woman about to give birth, but you know what, this is the most useless piece of advice. Obviously I sleep as much as I can now, but that is already limited by my physical shape. My hips ache all night long, which keeps me up; I have to go to the bathroom, on average, five times a night, which obviously disrupts my sleep; and I still have to go to work and carry on with a life that will not stop for my discomfort. Thus, to all those “friends” of mine with their advice, SHUT IT.

Finally, I am in desperate need of more books to read. Brett requires a lot of study time these days, and due to the smallness of our house and the fact that we had to turn the study into the nursery, I can no longer watch TV much at all for it will disturb his studies (not something that concerns me, I am happy to oblige). However, that means that I now read, a lot. Problem is that I don’t know what to read. So tell me, what are some good books? I recently finished John Krakauer’s newest book (awesome and upsetting) and am now knee deep in the Witches of Eastwick because somehow I managed to have never read anything by John Updike. But, um, what next? Help a pregnant lady out?