Thirty Weeks

My figure lately defines me in more ways than one. I’m watching where I walk and what I eat, things I read and which social situations I choose to show up to or not. Strangers have so much to say-pregnancy is such a magnified state of being that people are compelled to offer advise and help everywhere I go, and I appreciate it most of the time.

While all of these things can be and certainly are intense and consuming, I’m really embracing this last pregnancy. Despite the sleeplessness, physical awkwardness and discomfort, I’m focusing on appreciating this time because the truth is I will miss most of these things dearly.

There’s an inexplicable consciousness and self-awareness that happens for me when I’m carrying a child, and I don’t think I’ve really appreciated it or recognized as much in my past pregnancies as I have lately. Over the years of my life, there have been periods of intense loneliness and detachment from my physical self that have been related to body image, and pregnancy has helped to reform those feelings. The body is truly a temple, and during these times especially it’s confirmed and reinforced that I should treat and regard it as such. Knowing that a brand new life is being created from that temple helps my brain shift to auto-pilot, default caretaker mode, but this time it’s for my own self as well. As a mother, I admittedly have struggled with the Airplane Protocol which demands that the adult gets the oxygen mask first, where as I would absolutely in every situation make certain that the kids get the life-saving procedure initially. Their needs before mine, in most situations anyway. It seems to be more of a mental state than it is a physical one. Pregnancy is a mode of self-preservation in it’s realest state and it’s something that I hope to continue learning from long after my fourth baby is born and no longer a literal part of me.

The closer I get to our due date, the more these feelings morph into encompassing the real time changes that will occur within our nuclear family.

Jack will be a big brother three times over. I can visualize holding his little hand through each of my pregnancies, thinking about how this new sibling will affect him. He was born to be the leader of his pack; He is incredibly gentle, empathetic and compassionate with both Zoe and Beau.

A few days ago, he came into our room one morning after waking to talk to me-he’s a fairly reserved child, so I knew what he had to say would be poignant. “I dreamed the new baby is a girl, momma”, he said proudly, beaming. From the beginning, Jack has expressed that he wanted another brother, but after he had this dream he’s never brought it up again. Beau brings enough boy energy to our pack to cover a dozen kids, and I think Jack feels it. The two of them wrestle and fight, but only because Beau instigates… Adding another boy will/would be so much fun.

And exhausting.

Zoe is positively beside herself in anticipation of the new baby’s arrival. She has names for a boy and a girl picked out, and squeals at the mere mention of baby diapers, baby bottles, baby clothes. She asks every day how big the baby is now, and each day I show her my BabyCenter update… The baby is as big as an eggplant! As big as a cantaloupe! As long as the zucchini that daddy just harvested out of our new garden! I really worried about how it would affect her when Beau was born, suddenly not being the baby any more. She was the only girl though, and her place has been apparent regardless of birth order. Her vibrance and joy, passion and, well, girliness, has firmly established her as the sunshine in our family.

Beau seems to have little concept about what will happen come September and a new baby joins our family. We talk about it often and explain to him what’s going on with me physically. Beau isn’t a gentle spirit, generally speaking, so that’s something we’re trying to encourage in his behavior. He is incredibly sensitive, however, and very, very astute when it comes to communicating and understanding emotions. I get a lump in my throat when I think about Beau suddenly not being the baby anymore, and how my divided attention will affect him. I’m worried about how he will adjust, of course, but these are concerns I’ve had twice before, and twice I’ve been pleasantly surprised.

There is such magic in watching them become siblings. Those moments between each other where they listen and learn and laugh together are what my soul feeds on: My life and my joy, encompassed.

They’ll understand what a gift they are to each other one day, even though right now a great deal of their time is spent teasing and competing with each other, with moments like the ones above sprinkled in throughout every day.

It feels like I’m waiting with baited breath to see what happens next, even though I kind of already know that truly, I’m just sitting in a time capsule. This is all very intense and important and visceral and wonderful… I kind of want to gather it up and put it in my pocket for our, and my, future reference.