Dear Baby: 31 Weeks

Dear baby girl,

Thirty-one weeks today. Can you believe it? I barely can. I alternate between feeling like you will never get here and feeling like there is nowhere near enough time left to finish getting ready. Since week ten, the days have truly been flying by, blurring into one another until seven of them have passed and we are one week closer to meeting you.

It completely overwhelms me to think about that, about meeting you. We have been doing so much to get ready for you - reading about you, reading to you, setting up your room, buying baby clothes and diapers and other "necessities" like fabric to sew your mobile, taking classes, and talking about you until we drift off to sleep - but I know no amount of preparation can really prepare us for your arrival. Honestly, I have a hard time really even thinking about it, about how we will be forever changed by you, about how this little family that I love so completely is about to grow. Just running through it in my mind leaves me a weepy mess of a mama-to-be, wishing that day would get here sooner.

But not too soon. We had a bit of a scare the last week, thinking you were trying to make your arrival much too early. Luckily, it appears for now that all is well and we still have weeks to go. While your Daddy and I were in the ultrasound room on Friday watching you on the screen, I was marveling to myself at how proud I already am of you. I look at your sweet little tummy and perfect baby feet and all I can think is that we made you. After all the waiting and dreaming and hoping, we made a perfect little person. 

When your tech proclaimed she thought that you were shy because you covered your face with your hands for the whole ultrasound, your Daddy and I laughed because you've done that every single time we've gotten to see you. He said, "I don't think there will be a shy bone in this girl's body. She's just saving the big debut for her birthday." Shy or not, we sure can't wait to see your sweet face for the first time.

I know things are getting more cramped in there; I feel you pushing and stretching all day and night trying to make more room. Soon enough, baby girl. For now, let's hang in there for at least six more weeks, okay?

Love,
Mama

Waving the White Flag.

Since I got pregnant, I've been fascinated by the whole baby-growing process, by the fact that our girl has gone from a microscopic blip to a rolling 3lb person with arms and toes and eyelashes who kicks and rolls and stretches all day long. I've been especially amazed by how little one actually has to do to grow a baby. Don't get me wrong, getting here was a trial to say the least, but once I was actually pregnant, all I've really had to do was sit back and let my body do the work. 

Which, for the most part has meant it's been business as usual around the White Hot house. Since I made it off the couch around week fifteen, I've been going nonstop. Sure, there has been a nursery to decorate and baby showers to attend (more on that loveliness to come) and birth relaxation methods to practice, but there has still been work and travel and a house to clean and boys to take care of. Especially the last eight weeks - I've traveled for work and for fun, we've had company or been out of town every single weekend, and I have frankly just been burning the candle at both ends.

Well, apparently my body had enough of that. Friday morning found me up at the crack of dawn with continuous Braxton Hicks contractions. Which, at 30 weeks, lands you a "come in immediately" seat at your doctor's office for a non-stress test, an ultrasound, and an exam. After a few hours hanging out with my favorite husband listening to baby girl and then watching her take a long nap, my second favorite doctor determined I was not yet in labor and agreed to send me home for the weekend (side note: apparently the alternative to going home was to admit me to the hospital for further monitoring, which made me have a mild heart attack in hindsight). So home we went, with strict orders to rest and relax, to call if anything changed, and to come back on Monday for a recheck.

Monday's appointment determined that there would most definitely be no travel this week, and that I will be back in next Monday to decide if I can resume my normal schedule. Obviously, I will be doing whatever is best for this sweet sleep-stealing girlie of mine, but man, oh man, this ceding control thing is hard. There has been more than one episode of mild panic since Friday, that's for certain.

So, resting. What is this rest you speak of? Apparently it is a lot of sitting around. Did I mention I am terrible at sitting around? I suppose this is the perfect time to do the things you have to be sitting around to do, like catching up on emails and finishing thank you notes and getting through my stack of pre-baby reading. 

Now is the time to slow down, to relax, to try not stress about the contractions (still coming, by the way), to focus in on the remaining weeks (nine?!) until baby girl's due date, and to feel so, so lucky for what happy and healthy weeks the last thirty have been.