I'm bored with relaxing and doing nothing, but that's all I can do—that pretty much sums up my existence at this point. It's incredible how different I feel in my body every day now, rather than the slow progression of the rest of pregnancy. The experience only grows in intensity (and discomfort) the closer I get to the end. And when will that end be?? That is what's on my mind constantly—it's impossible not to think about (though it's more of a crazy curiosity than wanting to hurry it along).
I have to say, even though I am pretty whiny right now, I still feel okay with the waiting (as long as it's not 90 degrees like it was yesterday;). That seems contrary to what a lot of women experience at the end, but I've always been a lover of the anticipation stage that comes before any exciting event. I love the build-up, the daydreaming, the giddy impatience—all of that seems to make my experiences all the more rich and appreciated on a deeper level when they actually happen….almost to the point of feeling drugged with happiness. For instance, every time I picked my husband up at the airport when we were long-distance dating, the day I finally moved to be with him, the day he proposed, our wedding day, well….I felt high. High on endorphins thanks to all the anticipation, that is:) Don't get me wrong, I definitely experience crazy impatience, but I somehow embrace and surrender to the impatience. I've always done this, because I have this constant, consuming awareness of the transience of life. I insist on savoring everything (you should see how slowly I eat a piece of cake). So, as crazy as the end of pregnancy can make a woman, especially with all the hormones and body parts that I cannot control, I think I'm doing a pretty good job of savoring the experience. With all the discomfort and irritability comes a richness and a connection to something much larger than us—that is something worth slowing down to notice.
I'm trying to focus my thoughts on lighter topics (for the sake of this post) and have only proved to myself that there is no pulling out of this highly mediative, introspective, pregnancy/labor/childbirth-centric mind state that I am in until this baby is out of me. Sure, I could talk about how I look like a penguin when I walk waddle around now, or how excited I am to feel my vital organs return to their original locations in my body because I'm sick of feeling a lump of intestines right under my boob, or the forlorn look on my face that cracks my husband up as I struggle to flip over in bed, but I can't concentrate enough on those (possibly more entertaining) things to form sentences.
Will there be a post next week?! I love how unpredictable and exciting the answer to that is! I could be right here, like every other week, talking to you OR my entire life as I've known it for 31 years could have faded away and been replaced with an entirely new existence. Oh my...
25 weeks
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And Baby Makes 3!
24 weeks
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And Baby Makes 3!
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