Where we are.

So here we are, me and my belly tenant, at the ‘full term’ milestone.

This probably means different things for the two of us, but the more I think about it, perhaps the more it is actually the same. It’s probably so comfy in there, with the warmth and the soothing background noise. And not that the baby knows what it’s in for, but why should s/he ever want to leave? I wonder if somewhere, deep in the slowly folding crevices of its devolping brain, it’s thinking, Well, yeah, I should probably get packing, but I still have a few more weeks, right? Why ruin a good thing?

And send down more chocolate. 

Then there I am. According to the questions people ask me – or rather, the tone in which they ask them – I’m supposed to be tired of being pregnant, frustrated that I’m still ‘like this,’ impatient to give birth already. Yet, I’m not. I’m content. I really do feel the calm before the storm. Maybe people exaggerate about pregnancy or maybe for other women it’s just more frustrating, but I have had a pretty good time with it. Maybe it’s the support I get from my partner (who, I can say, is quite ready to move on). Maybe it’s because I’m small – or percieve myself as small. I’ve really worked on remaining active, or as active as I’ve ever been when not pregnant.  Maybe it’s all the prenatal vitamins I take.

Although, chances are, it’s because I take one day at a time. 

So here I am, thinking, Yeah, take it easy in there. Enjoy what may be the best days of your life. I’d rather you weren’t too late, though. I made the mistake of telling people my due date and I don’t want to suffer people’s questioning every day after week 40… But I’ve always been one for having deadlines to get the work done. No deadlines, I’d never do it, right? So let’s look at week 40 as a mutual acceptance of the fact that you’re coming out and somehow my body is going to make that happen. In the meantime, sit back (but not too far back), keep eating (we don’t want to disappoint your Jewish grandmothers), and continue moving around so I don’t panic every hour (you don’t want to scare your Jewish mother, either).

And, yes, child. Chocolate is wonderful and here is some more. 






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