it’s already february, which means that according to my original doctor you are due to arrive at the end of this month. however, according to my midwife, you’re going to be a march baby. so now when people ask your due date, i just shrug and say we don’t really know. which concerns some people. so much so, that they look down at their feet as if they’re anticipating my water to burst right then and there and potentially ruin their shoes.
it’s a fair question though, as i do look ready to pop. my entire belly is one round hard bundle of you. and at every opportunity you push and press your little body against the insides of mine to remind me that your womb home is getting a little tight and perhaps you’d like me to consider adding another wing. but that’s not going to happen, so at this point, we should have a frank conversation. about how small i am, and how potentially ‘big’ you could be, and the physics of it all, and how it would be totally ok for you to hold off on gaining all your cute chunky thigh fat until you are OUT of my body. thankyouverymuch.
our house is still a hive of activity as our productions for the oprah network are still in full swing. most of my days are spent sitting around our kitchen table figuring out locations, and scripts for voice overs, and wondering how on earth we will build an 8 foot set of headphones. i keep planning on going for long walks, or at least sitting in the sunshine for a few minutes each day, but suddenly it’s 7pm and time to eat and i’m exhausted. this all comes down to ‘claiming’ the time i need each day…but setting those boundaries is not something that i’m very good at. especially when those around me are also working at top speeds and there is just so.much.to.do. but i am trying to reduce my responsibilities to some capacity so that i can be totally present during these last few precious weeks before our lives change forever. and even though i know that i’m already a mother, i realize that this will take on a whole new meaning when you are actually here here.
at our birthing class tonight we sat next to miranda july and her husband, mike mills. i tried not to stare at her, but she is one of my favorite creative muses and i had a hard time concentrating on our class because i was trying to figure out how to tell her that in a graceful (read: non stalkerish) way. meanwhile your papa, who is one of the world’s most friendly and disarming humans, started chatting to mike and next thing i knew they were talking about how we’re both planning our births at the same hospital in LA! no pressure nori, but you might need to become bff’s with miranda’s baby. ok?
we practiced birthing poses and ‘pushing’ breaths in class tonight, and besides my miranda-fascination, i was also distracted by the fact that in a few short weeks, i would no longer be practicing but actually giving BIRTH. to you. and it’s still just so surreal. every other thing in my life that i’ve anticipated has come and gone – first days at school, big trips, starting new jobs, and our wedding, etc. and even though all of those events were significant moments in my life, the anticipation that surrounds your arrival feels unlike any other. it’s a cocktail of exhilleration and excitement and joy and WE REALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO EXPECT-ness.
i recently found these two similar posed photos of your papa and i when we were babies, and i’m so curious to find out what you look like and what sort of combination you’ll have of our features.
as your ambiguous due date draws near, our greatest hope is, of course, that you are healthy. we pray that your transition from womb-world to this world is as intervention-free and safe as possible. your papa wants to be the first to hold you and to place you on my chest. and if all goes to plan, we will have those first precious moments as a family to ourselves. we will lie there and greet each other and try to survive our hearts imploding as they expand to ten times their original size. and even though our future together will undoubtedly hold the highest highs, i also know there will be lows. moments when extreme tiredness gives way to tears of frustration, or instances when doing the best i can, is simply not good enough, but please know that i will keep trying. i promise you that i will work hard every day to become a better me, for you.