Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Final Vinyl Days

That's the title of a collection of short stories by Jill McCorkle, who is one of my favorite writers. I got to meet her once. I even had lunch with her (and about 20 other journalists and professors) and I was too chicken to speak. I just sat there with a goofy grin on my face and stared at her.
But I digress. That's not the point of this post, even though one could do much worse than a post about Jill McCorkle.
The reason I titled the post Final Vinyl Days is because that phrase has been popping up in my head over the last couple of days as I think about how soon this pregnancy will be over. We are at 36 weeks today and I have no idea whether this little one is going to make his debut a little early or settle in for a long winter's nap and be overdue.
What I do know is that these final days are so precious -- every movement, every hiccup, every time this baby jabs my ribs or pounds on my bladder or my cervix -- reminds me of how short my time is getting. Though I cannot wait to see my son and hold him and nurture him and start our lives together, there is something so magical about pregnancy that, despite the discomfort I sometimes feel, I am sad to see it go.
Knowing that this very well may be my only pregnancy, I have tried to savor each moment. I've been lucky, I guess. No morning sickness, no strange cravings, no stretch marks (yet), no hemorrhoids, no back pain. My baby has taken it easy on his Mama and that has helped make this pregnancy a remarkably peaceful and happy time.
As much as I am looking forward to this baby's birth, I am not really looking forward to not being pregnant anymore. Does that sound strange? I waited so long for this and the time just passes so quickly. People keep saying to me "I'm sure you are ready," or "I bet you're miserable." But truth be told, I'm not.
I am still simply enjoying the ride. Maybe that will change in the coming weeks and I'll be begging my body to begin the process of getting this baby out of my uterus and into my arms. But for today, at least, I'm perfectly content to watch his little rear end move across my abdomen, to listen to my husband talk to the baby in a very deep voice as if he's channeling James Earl Jones and to rub this giant lumpy bump (which by the way, isn't so lumpy anymore -- where does the fat go exactly?).
So, though I have only a couple of pairs of pants and shirts that actually still fit, and though it's obvious the baby is running out of room in there, I am still loving every minute of this journey.

1 comment:

  1. This so resonates with me, Krista. On Monday I had a terrible day at work that totally ended with me in tears on the ride home, crying to my husband. Why? Because I had such an awful day that I actually thought to myself, "I am so ready to be out on FMLA and be done with this job for a while." And almost as soon as I thought that, I realized that being on FMLA would mean that my pregnancy was over, and I'm just not ready for it to be over. It's not that I'm scared about what comes next (some days I do feel a little apprehensive, purely out of inexperience), but more that I have really loved every single moment of being pregnant. Pregnant with THIS baby. I don't want to rush it AT ALL. I have such mixed emotions about birthing this baby: one one hand I'm so eager to meet this dream come true, but on the other hand, I just want to carry her/him as long as I can inside of me. Sigh.

    P.S. I have purchased TWO different pairs of shoes over the last three weeks in an attempt to find something to manage the growing girth of my super fat feet. I can't wear ANY of my old shoes anymore!