Tonight I’ve been reminiscing on the things I will miss most when my sweet baby girl exists on her own in the world. For all the time and effort I’ve spent these last weeks wishing she would be here and the aches and pains would subside and I could do simple things like finally sleep on my belly again, there are so many things I’m going to miss. I’m doing my best to savor the wait.
I love trying to distinguish what exacty is that hard little body part that pushes out against my right side - is that a foot? A knee? A tiny baby bottom? I have loved feeling every roll and move Everly has made since those very first flutters. It often feels as if this is our secret language. A Morse Code between mother and daughter.
The way people openly start conversations with you out of the blue when you’re pregnant - how far along are you? Do you know what you’re having? Have you chosen a name? My faith in humanity and the goodness of people in general is strengthened with every door held, every offer to help lift something heavy into the car and every 19 year old boy cashier willing to openly admit that he thinks "Babies are pretty cool"
Feeling the steady thump thump of Everly when she has the hiccups. In those moments, the surreal nature that generally accompanies thoughts of growing a child in my body are replaced with such realness. It’s such a human thing to do - you know?
The perfectly round curve of my belly - despite all the weight I’ve gained in other places - the truth is, I really love the shape of my belly with my child inside. I will miss how when I undress at night I always spend an extra moment in front of the mirror in our bedroom standing in profile and running my hands along the sloping arch of a once flat tummy and marveling at the capabilities of the human body.
The excitement and anticipation of a life that will be. Whose nose will she have? What personality traits will Tyler and I each pass down? How will our exact combination of genes create in her an original soul. The one and only Everly Jean. Only time and love and patience will reveal these things to us.
I am reminded that this may be my last time to be pregnant. Who knows what the future holds for our family. I am existing only in this moment of full and complete awareness of the gift I’ve experienced for the last 39.5 weeks of my life.
I marvel
that only a few layers of skin and muscle separate us and soon enough, not even that will keep us apart. The best part still waits for me.
This pregnancy has been a genuine gift... What a blessing.
