Only nine more weeks til Baby Noah arrives! We are very excited as you might imagine. Even better, we are also moving to our new home near the beach on the 15th of February! Packing should certainly be my full-time job right now, but to look around our house, you’d see that we are far from packed. When did we collect so much stuff?
To make matters more difficult, gone are the energetic, easy-going days of the second trimester. I’m getting more useless as the days go on–there are plenty of times when I need to just stop, breathe and rest. I have Braxton-Hicks contractions for longer periods, and I feel like the baby is already taking up my whole abdomen! (And I look like it too.)
People (strangers) don’t help. On a daily basis, I’m approached by, oh, whomever, with comments like, “You’re really small, how far along are you?” (I can’t be that small if they recognize I’m pregnant.) Or, I get, “Oh, are you having twins?” Or, out of nowhere, a hand juts into my path to hover just over my tummy with a whispered, “may I?”
May you what? Feel me up?
I actually really like it when small children want to touch (I imagine it’s good luck), and I do like being greeted by family or close friends with a loving pat on the belly, but when strangers–mostly men, mind you–want a feel, the good luck factor doesn’t exactly come to mind. I try to be gracious and understand that patting a prego is somewhat like stopping to smell the roses. (Although I’m certain my husband feels differently about strange hands in proximity to his wife and unborn child, and who can blame him?) Can you smell the roses without walking on the lawn?
After I gave birth to Joseph, whenever I would see a woman pushing a baby carriage, my perception of this everyday occurrence was hugely altered. What I now saw was a woman pushing the most precious creature that ever graced her (and her partner’s) life; she is pushing her every waking thought and concern, her future, her heart, her great passion, her greatest hope and prayer answered. Bringing that child in to the world either irrevocably altered everything she’d ever held dear, certain and true, or eternally affirmed and cemented her most deeply-held beliefs. And all these overwhelming feelings are lifted yet higher still when shared with the person she chose to spend her life with. Birth is the most wonderful miracle of love, and when we’ve pushed our own carriage, we’re all too aware of the immense value of what lies within those soft blankets, or below that burgeoning maternity blouse.
Anyway, I must get packing. If you are pregnant, please give that gorgeous belly of yours a rub for me, and for the rose-smellers.