Bliss of Life

I had an action packed day. I met with some friends at the Botanical Gardens and had a Reiki Attunement. (If you don’t know what that is, you can google it.) Afterwards, we went to Casa De Luz for a delicious vegan lunch. While I was there, I met two other pregnant woman who are using the same midwife as I am, GB Khalsa. This is becoming a reoccurring theme.

On Tuesday, I ran into another woman whose five-month-old son was delivered by GB. When we voted at the caucus we learned that she delivered both of our neighbor’s children. A few weeks earlier, I saw an old yoga student of mine at my naturopath’s office, and apparently, GB delivered both of her daughters who are now beautiful young preteens. Since I happened to have a midewife appointment today, I told GB that feel like I decided to buy a Toyota Corolla so everywhere I go I keep seeing Toyota Corollas. But I’m not buying a car, I’m having a baby. Her explanation was that the six degrees of separation is very visible in Austin, especially when you’re a midwife who has been here for as many years as she has. I suppose that could be it, but since she only takes on three births a month, give or take one or two because babies don’t really care about due dates, I still find it a little too coincidental. (Pause to chime in The Twilight Zone music.) But all kidding aside, the nice thing about running into all these women who have worked with GB is having the opportunity to hear about how wonderful she was while they were giving birth. Even one women who had to transport to the hospital and have a cesarean after being in labor for three days couldn’t say enough about her. I guess it’s the Universe’s way of reassuring me and letting me know that me and my baby are in the most capable of hands.

When I look out my bedroom window, this is what I see.  She has been sitting in her nest for at least two weeks.  We keep an eye on each other, us mammas-to-be, as we wait for the big day arrive, but I do envy her a little.  Her nest is already complete and she looks so peaceful just waiting.  I, on the other hand, am not peacefully waiting.  I am ironing drapes, ordering the last minute baby must-haves, and knitting tiny little hats like it’s a neurosis.  Maybe the peaceful waiting period will come soon.  If not, at least I can look at this mamma dove for some direction on how to do it properly.

There has been some week confusion. Our Midwife considers me to be 37 weeks, but when we look at the calender she gave us, to me, it looks like I am 36 weeks. The difference is that I don”t count a week until it is completed and our midwife goes by the week I am in. This kind of mental adherence to structural details explains why I had so much trouble with multiple choice tests. But whether or not you say Week 37 or 36 Weeks, the due date is still the same, May 11th, which is kind of creeping up on me.

Today, I happened to notice the Baby Countdown said 28 days, and my breath caught in my chest. 28 DAYS! That’s four weeks. There are only few more weekends to have a couple more date nights, get the baby room nice and tidy, finish buying all the baby paraphernalia we need, and to hunker down and prepare for our newest member of the family. All of this would be infinitely easier if my husband wasn’t finishing up an MBA.

Ben’s semester ends about two weeks after the baby’s due date. Almost every night Ben works on projects and homework so he can stay a week or two ahead of his syllabi. I miss not being able to spend the time with him, especially now when he is the main person I want to be around. Also, I’m a little concerned about how we are going to get everything done. I can make myself dizzy going through the to-do list, but the reality is that the baby will come, ready or not. And like most things in life, this part of my pregnancy, as well as the birth, is not going to be the way I had imagined it being. But if I can let go a little bit, it just might be even better.

I am enjoying a state of gratitude. For a few hours today our little two bedroom house was filled with friends and family who wanted to celebrate our baby. I wish that every baby about to enter the world was welcomed like our Little Mung Bean. I keep thinking about a posting on my friend Kewal’s blog in which her daughter was learning the meaning of the word rich. Once she grasped the word’s meaning she said:

“We are rich in pretty!
We are rich in love!
We are rich in hair!
We are rich in books!
We are rich in cleaning supplies!
We are rich in messes!”

Tonight, I am really, really rich in love.

I don’t seem to be having any.  In the earliest days of my pregnancy I did, but I thought they were supposed to pick up closer to the end of the pregnancy.  Instead, my husband is having dreams about the baby and so is my friend Dev Saroop.  In both of their dreams there is a common theme.  Our baby doesn’t seem so baby like.  Instead of being swaddled and resting in my arms, the Little Mung Bean is walking around and talking at just a couple months old.  I think it’s funny that I haven’t even had the baby and yet, she/he is already growing up so fast.

We got home late Sunday night. Slowly but slowly we’re settling in again, but there are so many things to do. The laundry is piled up. The baby room still isn’t finished. The floors are filthy–pretty much everything needs to be cleaned or wiped down, and we need to go to the grocery store, because I haven’t been here in 4 weeks and still need to eat about every three hours or so.

I had an appointment with my midwife yesterday for the first time since March 1st. As far as baby growing goes, everything is on schedule. My belly, as big as it may seem for my petite frame, measures right on target for where I am in the pregnancy. She said that the baby is probably around 6 lbs right now, which means that it looks like I am going to have a 7.5 to 8lb baby, if I make to 40 weeks. Will I make that far? Don’t know.

Yesterday while running errands, I couldn’t help but notice some stares I received that seemed to be equal parts curiosity and amazement. One woman said, “For your sake, I hope your due soon.” And I am, but four weeks and change wasn’t what she meant by “soon.” I’m getting to the point of the pregnancy where a lot of women just wish for it to be over. I’m not there yet. Maybe it’s because I’ve been in Houston with my husband’s family, and I needed to push the pause button on my pregnancy-to-do list. Maybe it’s because I actually love feeling the Little Mung Bean wiggle and stretch inside me. Who knows? The thing is, I’m not ready. Right now, I’m hoping for at least another week, maybe two or three, just to get things done.

Yesterday afternoon, shortly before 4:00, my husband’s mother, Alice, passed on.  I spent all of the past three weeks, with the exception of yesterday, in Houston with my husband’s family, learning about who my mother-in-law was as a woman, a wife, and a mother before the multiple sclerosis diagnosis, the wheel chair, and later, the hospital bed.  It has been a time of grace, and love, and grief.  And while I was uncomfortable writing about Alice’s last days with us, I couldn’t write about anything else either.  But I will say that I am blessed to have had the opportunity to experience the space of transition, while being with the life inside me that is preparing for this journey and being with another as it prepared for the next.