I've thought about blogging about my pregnancy experiences on several occasions, but for one reason or another never got to it. And maybe it's best that way. I have not exactly been one of those people who has enjoyed a radiant glow and raved about how much I love being pregnant. I could rattle off some of the unpleasantness I have endured, but to truly capture the grim reality, I would have to be way more honest than I'm willing to be. No need to share or speak the horrors aloud. I'm sure I'm not the only one, so it can just remain a tacit understanding among mothers. Let's just sum it up and say that pregnancy can be really gross. Yes yes, it's also quite amazing, miracle of life and all that, but I was not prepared for the havoc it would wreak on my body.
But let me focus on the good stuff. One thing that continues to captivate me is watching my belly move. Basically whenever I'm relaxing at home, I have my shirt pulled up so that I can see it when she moves. For a while there were big, swift waves as she rolled and twisted and squirmed. Now that there's less room, the moves are slower, but just as enthralling. Out will poke an elbow or a knee, and just stay there (until I gently push it back in). It's creepy but so cool. I still sort of can't believe there's a baby under there.
Although I'm absolutely terrified of the whole giving birth thing (and of course nervous about the parenting to follow), I am so excited to meet my little squirmy mcgoo. Now that the finish line is in sight, I just want to get there. But I know I should try to appreciate (through the back pain, heartburn, uncomfortable sleeps, etc etc etc) that this is the last little while I get to feel her stretching and wiggling around inside me. This is the last little while when I alone carry her and feel her and protect her . Soon enough I will share her with her daddy and her grandparents, her auntie and uncle and cousins, who are all very eager to meet her too... but right now she is all mine.