Twelve to be exact.
Less than six days from now if all goes as planned I will be in the hospital holding my new baby.
I am ready. I am so, so ready to be done being pregnant. There are women who do this so well. They are beautiful, maternal, they truly "glow" with motherhood. That woman is not me. For as grateful as I am for this pregnancy and for how blessed I feel to bring this one to term...I'm done.
I'm done with
- kicks to the ribs that keep me up all night
- sleep deprivation
- feeling like my pelvic bone is shattered
- this bronchitis I've had since early October
- feeling like I'm about 84
So what does running marathons have to do with anything? In my previous life I was a big time runner. I raced just about any road race I could find. I especially loved the sense of accomplishment after running a marathon. Funny thing is, I still think of myself as a runner. I always imagined I would run through pregnancy. That was not going to happen for me. But I can't seem to get out of my mind the story of a woman from my city who finished a marathon well into her eighth month. In fact a Marine friend of mine who prides himself on being a runner told his disenchanting story of running the Twin Cities Marathon and the victorious feeling he felt as he approached the finish line only to have this pregnant woman pass him on the final stretch. He was dumbfounded (and quite humbled). But her story made the newspaper because the weekend after that marathon she ran a race called the "Twenty-four Hour Race". You basically run for 24 hours straight and see how many miles you clock on. The day after she ran that race she delivered a healthy baby boy.
As I waddle about, I think of this woman constantly and the impossibility of her accomplishment. I certainly couldn't even run a few blocks right now with my belly as big as it is...let alone 26.2 miles! I'm short of breath just sitting here typing.
This will all be coming to an end very soon. And as much as I sit here and complain, I am also very aware that there are things (believe it or not!) that I will miss about being pregnant. Like...
...good morning hugs...
...to bebe from Peanut.
I will miss that busy little body constantly moving about inside me. (Kicks to the ribs and all.) I had forgotten how lovely that movement is. After Peanut was born, the absence of the butterfly flutters inside, even though he was moving in my arms, made me a little sad.
There are also many reasons to be grateful
- feeling as wiped out as I do, I don't have to wait until my due date of the 14th to deliver
- this has been a very healthy pregnancy (aside from the bronchitis)
- there have been no surprises
- and FINALLY...I can be THRILLED I don't take after my sister whose breasts grew to a frighteningly huge "H" cup with her second pregnancy. (That is NOT a type-o...she was an "H"...and I have her permission to say that here).
I still feel like I have a gazillion things to do before Tuesday, and the panic is starting to set in. Knowing I will have a few weeks of bed rest when I get home adds to the stress. Why I think I need to add "re-grout the bathtub" to my list right now is beyond me, but I guess that's just part of that craziness that pregnancy brings on. There is only so much I can do right now, every little thing starts to feel as big a feat as running a marathon.
All I really have to do right now is make sure my bag is packed and make time for more "besos para el bebe".