The Sweet Spot of Pregnancy

As I sit on the couch writing this, my stomach is vastly bigger on the right side than the left. There are some feet in there, pushing up against my stomach, presumably trying to make more room since my kidneys stubbornly refuse to budge. The baby is heavy and strong and hurts when he/she kicks, and my stomach is getting bigger and bigger every day.

I remember the last pregnancy finally, at this point, wanting to put the brakes on. It's the same this time. I'm not a patient person. At all. And pregnancy (and wanting to be pregnant) is all about waiting. Waiting for the right time to try to get pregnant. Waiting for the two weeks to see if you are pregnant. Rinse and repeat if necessary. And then waiting to see if the baby sticks around. Eight weeks of waiting. Waiting to see just how sick you're going to feel this afternoon and if you'll get through that meeting without barfing and telling your co-workers you are pregnant through the worst possible means. And then once the first trimester is over, waiting for the myriad test results of the second trimester. And waiting for that magic (but not really magic) viability date, at which point you can supposedly breathe a sigh of relief that your baby will make it (but then don't think about all the problems said baby might have if born at that stage.) Waiting some more, waiting for the baby to grow and get bigger, and for the weeks to go by and then eventually waiting for birth.

Many many many days of waiting.

But right now -- right now is when I want to press pause. I am big enough and far along enough that the baby is well on his / her way, the tests results came back as well as they could be. I am not so big that I am uncomfortable every single second and can't wait for the baby to get out! get out already! I love feeling him / her move inside me (most of the time!) and I love having him / her near. Soon we'll lose this closeness, this bond, this being of two persons within one person. Soon he or she will be gone from me, leaving me emptier of body. I think about the newborn days, the endless feedings and diaper changes and waking and craziness, and I revel in the relative easy-ness of sitting about, feeling the baby move, and bonding in the way that you some how can with a being within you without really saying anything or doing anything. Just feeling a small push in a meeting, reaching down and stroking your stomach, your little secret all safe inside.

There's nothing I can do to preserve this time -- like all of parenthood, it will rush by in a moment and all you can do is try to hold on to those little golden bits as they race by (and try to remember that those not-so-golden bits will also race by, albeit they FEEL slower). But here, in sitting here writing this, I hope I will be able to look back and remember this, the contentment and the happiness and the wholeness of being. The lack of need for time to pass, the perfection of the moment. I can't wait to meet you, kid, but I sure am enjoying this time with you. Don't make it all rush by too fast.