Somewhere along the way between bemoaning the overrunning cups of my bra and the shrinking in the dryer (shut up, it does too happen) underwear, I think I might have forgotten something, eventually it does end.
Caller: Hey, you guys free on the 26th?
S: Of March?
Caller: No, April.
S: Sure, why?
Caller: Carter’s birthday party.
Great, a party. A wonderful-didn’t-have-to-watch-mournfully-out-the-window-to-be-invited party.
The 26th? My due date.
It’s March. Technically we are entering the third week of March, or at least the third line on the calendar. My beautiful calendar at work still reads February. My brain and the speed at which I am preparing for this baby, still register as February.
Last night a gathering of people, some of whom I have known for years and others I am only just getting to know, was waiting for me upstairs at Davidson’s. There were husbands and kids, nanas and co-workers. It was incredible to be surrounded by so many different incarnations of family.
I watched in awe, the older kids straddling between the little kid and adult world, stole glances at the ways that husbands chatted amidst the pink ribbons and frothy wrapping, smiled at heads bent over an impossibly decadent coconut confection. The clinking of glasses and sugar infused squeals throughout made me feel so blessed to be suspended in this moment between a family of four and a family of five.
This morning the clocks sprang forward and somehow with that surge, came the realization that this baby is coming. I’ve got a another 7 weeks. Just seven weekends. And then I’m done. This seemingly endless odyssey of expanding and aching and oh the weeping, will draw to an amazing, miraculous close.
Suddenly all those complaints seem silly. I want to savor these somersaults and tweaks, marvel at the elasticity of my body and luxuriate in the cocoon of emotions, the magic of each moment revealed through pregnant eyes. I also want to sprint. The sweeping, laundering and organizing. The shopping, strategizing and preparing. I don’t know how seven weeks will be enough. After last night, I know that I have an incredible group of people ready to help me, whether it is as I weep or as I rant.