On Wednesday we hit the 30 week mark. This milestone hit me square in the teeth because I am so not ready to be done with pregnancy yet. I know I still have 10 weeks to go, but that suddenly seems like such a short amount of time. I actually get teary-eyed thinking about it. How weird is that? Even with all of the struggles, pains, and nuisances of pregnancy, I ardently adore having my little boy with me. He's a part of me now in a way that he'll never be again. I know the next part is the good stuff... but I find myself feeling so protective of this time that he and I have shared together. I have him all to myself. It's this strange kind of selfishness that makes me want to cry about having to share him with the world soon.
I think before actually experiencing pregnancy for myself, the overall message I received was that it's a fairly negative experience. From Facebook posts, personal conversations, blogs, etc. Horror stories and the oh just you waits were the majority. To an extent, they still are. Not to say that those horror stories aren't real, because they definitely are - there are women out there who could rival Bella Swan for worst pregnancy ever. I think I have been very lucky, and obviously everything I say is coming from my own experience. I still think it's a shame that we often allow the complaints to permeate the conversation. Maybe we really do just struggle with the changes in our bodies (say goodbye to your figure forever, because you are doomed, lady!) and feel the need to share those things in solidarity, but I want to take a moment to truly appreciate what the last 30 weeks have meant to me. Maybe it's just the pregnancy brain talking, but these are the things I'm going to miss.
I'm going to miss feeling his twirling movements every day, wondering what he's up to and what expressions his face might be making. I'm going to miss the time I get to spend with him that no one else can have (including his 2am dance sessions). I'm going to miss going to bed with my arms wrapped around him, knowing he's safe and protected in there. I'll miss this phase of mystery and dreaming - what will he look like? What will he be like? Soon we'll know for certain, but this time of sweet anticipation is precious all on its own. I'll miss maternity clothes and bump pictures. Feeling the least body conscious I've ever felt, because this belly is supposed to hang out, thankyouverymuch. I'll miss the way Dusty and I spend every night holding hands over my belly, feeling our little one move and talking to him about the future. I won't lie, I'll miss being taken care of. The sweet words, the excitement, the tenderness.
I know that pregnancy can be (and is) a very scary thing for many people, but I have loved every bit of it. Even the sickness (he's healthy and growing!), even the fatigue (all day naps? yes please), even the weird and absurd body changes. And I do mean absurd. I have cried, I have been surprised, I have had to adjust. But lemme tell you, my body is a boss. We just took our first class ("The Art of Breastfeeding") on Wednesday and I think I can say that boobs are boss. Put that on a t-shirt and wear it around town. A woman's body is insane, it's all sci-fi up in here. God is a miraculous creator, isn't He? That's what pregnancy really is. He's just showing off. I'm proud to be a warrior of His handiwork. It's truly extraordinary. Especially because this process is the precursor to welcoming our son into the world. A real human. He is and always will be a part of me, a part of my husband and I. I will cherish this time forever. 30 weeks and counting. Tick, tock.
(I will recant all of these things in 10 weeks when I begin bribing doctors to get this child outta me pronto).