Baby Bump, I'll Miss You

The other day a friend, whose wife is seven months pregnant with their second kid, asked if I was “at that point yet?” The point, he said, I would get to when all I could wish for was to have the baby out of me.

Last night, a yoga teacher asked me the same thing.

People have been asking this for months. But I’m not there (yet?) With just over a month to go, I don’t know if I’ll ever get there. I love being pregnant.

I have had moments of intense heartburn, constipation and fatigue. I have felt heavy and frustrated that I can’t do the things I used to be able to do. I have cried for no apparent reason and then laughed just as hard a moment later. But none of these things have ever made me think “Get this thing out of me!”

This baby is safer in my womb than she will ever be once she is born. Inside, she is warm and cozy. She is protected. She is well-fed. She doesn’t need to ask for anything because everything she needs is naturally provided.

I love the way this bump looks. I have never felt so beautiful or so feminine in my life.

I still regularly go to yoga and walk wherever I can (as long as it’s not miserably cold out). I am in good shape. I don’t feel lazy or lethargic.

Also, I’m getting used to being pampered.

Letting other people take over was one of my bigger challenges with this pregnancy, but I might milk it in this last month I have left. I might take the pregnancy parking spot at the grocery store. I might take a seat on the metro. (Who am I kidding, Mike drives me everywhere I can’t walk these days.)

It’s okay if they don’t let me clear the dishes or bring the shopping into the house. I like having the car door opened for me. I like massages upon request.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think once the baby is born I will have little time to be pampered. We will be pampering this little one all the time.

So, I’m not at that point. Stay in, little one. Bake for another month. I could go another four months carrying this bump.

With that said, I can’t wait to meet you!