Great With Child

Oh, I am ready to meet this little girl.

And ... this was taken about two weeks ago.  I've gotten a bit bigger, but I rarely wear anything besides sweats these days, so I haven't taken a picture.

I think it is quite common to feel like "it's time" once you've hit those last two weeks.

But I really feel like she could make her appearance at any moment.

My belly has expanded to its maximum.  Plenty of stretch marks have appeared (I'm thinking it's partially due to Mac sitting on me all the time), and I can feel her in every part of me.  She pushes my ribs and punches my bladder at the same time. My belly rolls like a wiggling water bed ... except it doesn't feel like there's even any room for water in there any more.

My cousin-in-law Annie once told me that she feels like there's a time during pregnancy where people look at you and think, "Oooh, what a cute preggo belly!"  And then there comes a point where they think, "Oh poor thing ... you're almost done."  I think I'm getting the pity looks more often these days.  I gave a prayer in church last week, and when I got up to the front, an audible, "Woah," went throughout the crowd.

The fun thing about this stage is how much you can tell there really is a little person in there, about to make her appearance.  The other night Mark was attempting to work out that darn muscle in my lower abdomen that has been a problem throughout most of this pregnancy ... and he stopped.  "Wait," he said, "That's her head I'm pushing on.  That's at least two inches lower than she normally is.  Do you feel like she's dropped?"  Suddenly the burning sensation in the skin of the top half of my belly made sense, along with the progression of pain in my pelvic bones from crumbling to piercing.  He then moved up my belly and showed me each little body part.  "Here are her shoulders.  There's her spine.  And a little bum ... there's a foot ..."  And she immediately moved it across my body, causing my belly to take on plateau-form.  He chased her foot around for a bit, and she responded to every touch.

I love that Mark knows these things.  It has been so nice to have him be a chiropractor during this pregnancy.

My doctor has confirmed that I definitely have dropped, that the baby is in a great position, and that she will definitely be bigger than Mac's 6 pounds 7 ounces.  "But you are tall and strong," he tells me in his thick Japanese accent, "you will be fine.  Easy birth."  I really do like my doctor.

And I really do feel completely confident with this birth.  It must be a combo of this being my second rodeo and all my doula training ... but I don't feel one bit of the anticipation I was completely riddled with before Mac came around.  Perhaps that will change once the real contractions start ...

I've had those braxton-hicks contractions since I was around four months along, but now they hurt.  The trick with labor is to ignore it till you just can't take it any more, but I've got to call my mom once things start up so she can hop on the next plane ... we're hoping she'll get here before I need to go to the hospital so she can take care of Mac. 

It will all work out, right?

It will.