But before I reach my feet I observe every stretch mark and bit of cellulite that have politely appeared in the past 7 weeks when I thought I wouldn’t have any.
My mind races with the millions of things I want to get done before she comes. Freezer meals, organizing the nursery one last time, and cleaning every inch of my house. My body is begging for sleep, but my insomniac mind does not oblige.
Well, since I’m up, I might as well use the bathroom for the 5th time tonight. I grab some tums for the heartburn, and get up slowly because, well, moving is a struggle.
I breathe through a contraction and my stomach decides to empty all of its contents into the toilet. I’m not really sure why, but this has been happening more frequently lately. I wonder if I’ll spend all of real labor throwing up as well as having contractions. That could be interesting.
Breakfast is made pretty much every day for my pilot husband, but dinner is a struggle.
I live in yoga pants and the biggest t shirts in my closet. Jeans, if I wear them, last about two hours before I peel them off and say “never again will I subject myself to such torture.”
This is my life at 39 weeks of pregnancy.
But this is also my life at 39 weeks of pregnancy:
I run my fingers through the beautiful clothes in the nursery closet, so grateful for our support system and anxious to see my little girl in these outfits.
I marvel at how amazing the human body is, able to create and nourish life. Yes, my body looks different. But these differences have allowed the creation of a small baby girl, and that is incredible.
I get to make hot chocolate every day, sit by my Christmas tree in my slippers, and I don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about it.
Constantly I imagine what she will look like, what she will sound like, and what her little (or big) personality will be.
Spencer and I spend a lot of time doing simple activities, like watching Christmas movies, talking, cuddling, and just being. He has been my biggest support and greatest friend.
The last weeks of pregnancy have allowed me to slow down and to focus on the things of greatest value to me in my life.
We have not placed as much focus on presents or grand Christmas activities, and that has given us time to appreciate one another and our Savior.
Having Christmas Eve as my due date has helped me ponder the Savior and His mother Mary. I have thought often of her long journey to deliver her Son. I’m sure she felt anxious, tired, sick, and unsure of what was to come. But I bet she also felt excitement to meet Him, gratitude for the privilege of being His mother, and strength from on high.
I also wonder if she felt alone. On that quiet night in Bethlehem, I believe many prayers were said by her and for her. Joseph her rock, providing as much comfort as he could for his sweet young wife. And the angels above, giving light and strength to Mary as she embarked on the journey of motherhood.
I don’t know when this baby will come. Waiting has been hard, mainly because of the discomforts of pregnancy. But I will wait, and I will pray, and I will enjoy this quieter time of life with the husband I love.
Together we can reflect on Mary and Joseph bringing the Son of God into the world. And we can be grateful that we also have been given the gift to be parents to a spirit daughter of God.
