Tuesday, October 22, 2019

24 Weeks

I felt like it was time for me to pause (something this beaver doesn't do too often), and reflect on this pregnancy, and what it means to me.

I'm not in any hurry.  I'm 24 weeks and happy to be so.  It's funny how things change with each pregnancy.  With Caleb, I simply could not wait to be a mom.  I was counting down the weeks and they could not go fast enough.  

Even with Silas, I was pretty eager.  I was already a mom, but I will still excited to meet him and hold him and turn our family into a family of four.

Well, now things are a whole lot different.  I have two boys that are a handful and very needy.  Adding a newborn to the mix thrills and terrifies me at the same time.

But honestly, I know this is my last pregnancy.  I believed Silas was my last, but now I know with absolutely certainty that this is my last.  I am trying to enjoy the miracle for as long as possible.  A woman with child is a miracle.  God puts this little seed there, and in no time, it goes from looking like a tadpole to a human.  Each week brings changes.  That little human grows and develops and is able to feel pain and hear sounds.  Babies can make faces in the womb, and they are every bit alive as you and I.  To carry a child in my womb, in such a time when the fight for life is at stake, is an honor.  I am so tired of hearing about women's rights.  Perhaps that is a rant for another time and place, but a baby in utero is a life that has value.  

I know that in a year this will all be a memory.  Carrying our little girl, feeling her many kicks, knowing her very survival depends on my own, will all be in the past.  It is a beautiful thing.  For certain, it is awkward and uncomfortable.  Sleeping is difficult, as well as many other things.  The mere act of bending down to pick up a toy (and getting back up!) requires Herculean effort.  But I would not trade it.  

We still have a million things to do before this baby gets here (including upgrading to either a van or SUV so we can fit three car seats, as well as tearing apart our bedroom and finding whatever nooks and crannies to store this baby's clothes and things since she doesn't have a room).  I feel like I need more time, not less.  But besides that fact, I still want to enjoy it.  I don't want to complain over every ligament pain and the fact that the restroom is a constant need.  Sure, I may miss my regular clothes and drinking caffeine and not worrying about exceeding the recommended milligrams.  (Yes, I still have to be careful when nursing.)  But, this too shall pass.  Soon this little one will be in my arms, and I'll be marveling over the curve of her cheek and the softness of her skin.  I'll be delighted with how she scrunches her face and curls up her legs.  Right now, however, she's inside of me.  Something she will never be again.  Growing and thriving and being a very part of me.  It is a miracle.  I will enjoy the miracle, one we doubted we'd ever have, while she is there.  

So, little one, take your time.  You grow and get nourished and triple in size.  Fine tune your senses.  Put on a healthy weight.  Enjoy the sounds of Daddy's horn and your brothers being silly.  You can even hear me singing, though I can't say I have anything close to a good voice.  But perhaps you enjoy the lullaby I sing for Silas, the one that calms him when he is upset.

When you are ready, we will welcome you with wide open arms and plenty of kisses.  Be prepared for your Daddy to melt into a puddle when he holds you for the first time.  Get ready for lots of Daddy/daughter dances.  Caleb can't wait to meet his little sister!  I have been telling him all the ways he can love on you when you are born.  Silas still doesn't have a clue, and he might be downright jealous when you get here, so you are going to have to win him over with your sweetness.  Which I am sure you will!

We love you so much.  I am proud to carry you, and I will be proud to nurse you and to have you in my arms.  For now, for today, I am enjoying you being inside of me.  Snug and safe and warm.