Hurry Up and Weight

"But in the end it wasn't up to me.

The big things never are.

Birth, I mean [...]And love.

And what love bequeaths to us before we're born."

— Jeffrey Eugenides

I look at my belly button in the mirror, studying the way it protrudes through both a tank top and a t shirt. It wasn't always this way, was it? There was a time when I couldn't rest a plate on the top of my stomach, and a time where Sky and I couldn't watch the plate teeter and sway from movements underneath it. He didn't used to rub my stomach every night in front of the TV, or talk to it in the dark. I struggle to remember the life we had 9 months ago. She's already such a part of our life.

It seems every mother ends up at the end of her pregnancy with a sense of impatience, a need to rush. I laughed at them. It did not compute with me- after all, at the end of the pregnancy comes a baby. No more automatic feedings or 100% portability. Suddenly, life is not 2 1/2 people but a full 3. The first-timer in me thought that sounded awfully scary.

Oddly enough, it still is scary, but that fear is being overtaken with readiness. My body knows this somehow. My hips ache and expand, my contractions have gotten stronger, my back is sore, and I've lost the ability to stand for very long periods without feeling like an old lady. Amelia knows it too, kicking me sharper and lower than she ever did before. This sounds as if I'm complaining, but while I'm not exactly enjoying it, I am almost relieved that it is happening. It was as if a light switch clicked on this week.

It's a strange thing to finally accept the fact that my stomach is very round and can't be sucked in, only to realize it will already shrink a little (hopefully a lot!) in a few weeks' time. It's even more odd to think about a person that Sky and I talk about (in a way that seems almost hypothetical) will be resting her tiny chin on my shoulder.

Everything is preparation mode now. My baby shower is this weekend, and I'm really excited for it. I've washed more baby dresses and blankets, and we've rearranged the nursery furniture and put the antique bassinet in our room for her first couple weeks. I think of everything as, "This could be the last time we go to a movie without a babysitter" or "It will never be this quiet again." Of course part of me pouts about this, but I know that once she's here, I wouldn't trade her for a billion quiet nights.

Sky and my brother are leaving tomorrow for a two week drill for the National Guard, getting back 3 days before my due date, so my dad is on official 'standby' notice to keep his car ready anytime day or night. Sky and I were both hoping that I would go into labor at any second (now) so that he wouldn't have to go, since the base he'll be at is a 10 hour Humvee drive away. The Guard has mentioned the possibility of getting a helicopter ride back to Champaign, but I'm smart enough to know that I shouldn't get my hopes up for that. You're not a real Army wife until you can learn to disregard everything they say.

For now, I sit on a ridiculously huge exercise ball (that makes Sky and I think of this) and rock back and forth. I pay attention to every contraction, hoping it's the beginning. I get startled with some of the body jabs I feel. I look at the calendar and sigh.

Amelia, I'm ready when you are, kid.