Waiting for Macie

My mom says that pregnancy is by nature a temporary condition, and being a postpartum nurse and mother of four, she should know. However, after carrying this child for what feels like the duration of an elephant's gestation (see former posting in which I compare my fertility history to the largest land-dwelling mammal), I don't feel the end in sight. Instead, I feel muscles pulling and shifting every time I move. I feel fatigued after getting dressed and eating breakfast. I feel like if I sneeze, my baby might just fall out--which could be easier than labor. I feel Macie kickbox inside of me. I'd heard that the last month is tough, but now I fully believe it.

I've also heard though, that oftentimes moms miss the jabs and punches and kicks once baby is out in the world. I already fully believe this because no matter how often she stretches and turns, I never tire of watching this alien-like being roll my belly from side to side. Sharing my belly with her is an honor in moments like that.

Last night I dreamed that Macie arrived and a week passed. I went to breast-feed her and she wouldn't eat. I went to change her diaper and realized that in all my humongous baby bag, I didn't have a single diaper. Within moments, she started laughing at me, and within seconds, she turned into a punkish teenager who looked much like one my students (who are not typically punks, I must say). Perhaps life may feel as fast as that someday, but for today, I hope I can enjoy the small moments--even the pulls and tugs and discomforts--before my Macie arrives and turns into a teenager in the blink of an eye.