March 16, 2015

Everything is Bigger: An Ode to My Last Month of Pregnancy

Saturday morning, bed head, sans makeup, flowery robe. In other words, my daily uniform. 

Everything is bigger.

My body is bigger, in just about every way. I'm not upset about this, just extremely aware. My belly, boobs, feet, hands, nearly everything on me is...larger. This makes it harder to sleep, to sit, to lay down, to walk, to walk slowly, to walk quickly, to walk the dog, to put shoes on, to work on my turbo hip-hop dance workout dvds. (That last one was a joke, I hope you know that.) It's been a humbling experience for me, a normally self-possessed and independent person when it comes to, you know, doing things for myself. It's humbling to realize that it's a full, 4-point turn to get out of bed. It's humbling the first time you knock over a table lamp with your belly. It's humbling to be larger than you ever have been in your entire life. 
My body is bigger. 

My heart is bigger, in just about every way. I FEEL EVERYTHING. All the feels. All the time. I'm struck on a daily basis the depth of love I have for my husband, and how there's a small part of me that will mourn the day when it's no longer just the two of us goofballs, figuring out how to do life. My heart nearly explodes when I envision this little baby being placed on my chest, all warm and wet and alive and ours. When a college friend sent me a box of sweet baby goods I just about melted down. Not because of the adorable baby things, but because having people care about you enough to reach out, from far away, after years of not talking - my heart literally grew 3 sizes. That Facebook video someone posted of a puppy and a baby and a bird or was it a kitten I don't know - all I know is I cry. That Ellen video where she gives the audience a washer and dryer - all I know is I cry. When the Trader Joe's cashier says I look beautiful and insists on carrying out my groceries - all I know is I cry. 
My heart is bigger. 

My fear is bigger, in just about every way. How will we do this? Will Matthew and I still be best friends? Will I be able to breastfeed? What if I can't? What if the baby has health problems? What if she never sleeps? Will I truly lose my mind? Can I really work from home? What if I resent the baby? How will I survive being a mother, without my own coaching me? Will I suffer from postpartum depression? Will we ever pay off our student loans? Will I ever learn how to cook meat correctly? These are just sampling of the fears running through my brain at any given time. We've decided to cloth diaper, and when we made the decision we were both totally confident and on board. Now, it depends on the day. On Mondays I'm cool with it...yeah, earth friendly, less expensive, better for the baby...no problem, yo. We can do this. On Tuesdays I'm less cool with it...DEAR GOD why would we cloth diaper, it's insane, we're creating more work for ourselves during a time when people tell me we won't eat or sleep...yeah, I turn into a panicky mess. I realize that when it comes down to it, it really doesn't matter. They're diapers. It's fine. We'll figure it out. What's more notable is how my fear can drive me, in an instant, to question everything. 
My fear is bigger. 

My gratitude is bigger, in just about every way. I've waited YEARS to get where I am. Here we are, my incredible husband and I, awaiting the arrival of our sweet baby girl. I'm no longer working at a soul-sucking stressful job (yuck), I'm spending my days working with creative professionals and photographing all the beauty the world has to offer. I live in a beautiful place, filled with friends and family and sun and sea and farmer's markets, in a house with a front garden. I AM BEYOND BLESSED. When my fear gets out of control about things that don't really matter (see above: cloth diapering) my gratitude is that magic that rises up in me and reminds me that I don't need to worry. I'm fine. I'm more than fine - I'm happy, safe, supported, loved, and living a life that while is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, it's mine and I'm figuring it out. 
My gratitude is bigger. 

36.5 weeks pregnant, and I'm ever cognizant of the largeness of life. Everything has been turned up to blast, there is more of everything. I'm going forward, trusting the process, and trying to enjoy these last few weeks of my pre-baby life. Cankles and all. 

Everything is bigger. 

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