I’ve been praying for about three weeks now that the baby will come early. I don’t mean 6 weeks early (although, methought to myself, if that’s when it came, what could I do?) I mean ANY day before May 12th – May 11th, May 10th, today, whatever. And still people, when I make jokes about having the baby, say, tonight, shake their heads and say, “Oh no! You don’t want to have the baby THIS early.” I want to tell them to shut up then. I DO want to have the baby. That’s the fun part – to meet my cute new baby, and to NOT be pregnant anymore. Of course I’ll then have to take care of a newborn AND all my other kids AND have to heal up AND have to wake up every three hours to nurse AND stress about post-baby weight and on. But I won’t be pregnant. Right now that sounds like the best incentive to deliver this bun tonight.
Joel has said several times recently that he thinks my belly is bigger than it’s ever been with any of the other kids. Once, when I looked down and saw my awesome, blossoming chest, Joel looked over at me and said, “Your belly is so big!” Only, I was anticipating that his comment was going to be about my chest. It was a downer.
My emotions and feelings are conflicted during these times. I’m glad to see my belly getting tighter because I feel more justified in being and feeling enormous – they baby is taking up more space, but I also start to worry about where I’ll find more nasty stretch marks after the baby is out. I feel calmer about when the baby will come because at this point it feels like the end is in sight. But I’m also becoming more tired, less able, more encumbered and more desperate to not share my tummy any longer.
In my mind I like to imagine that all these contractions (painful and not) are much more frequent than in previous pregnancies, that my body just isn’t as able to carry this pregnancy through to a precedential full week past my due date. Sometimes, when I don’t have heartburn or a sore back and I’ve slept through the night without having to wake myself up and eat some lame snack or watch infomercials from 2:30 – 3:30 a.m. or read scriptures by flashlight because I can’t sleep I’ll think I’m handling this last trimester with an unmatched degree of sanity and elegance. Usually within an hour, though, I’m so pooped from strenuous activity (You know, like carrying Clara up the stairs or cooking dinner or folding laundry) my frustrations and self-pity mounts and I’m nearly in tears about how I can’t bear to make it to my due date.
I have had several blessings from Joel when in dire emotive states that leave me disappointed because I’m not blessed that the pregnancy will soon be over. No. I’m blessed that I’ll have strength to endure to the end of the pregnancy, to endure the same fatigue, discomfort, pain, sickness and FRUSTRATION that women throughout the world and throughout history have endured time and time again. And then I think about how hard things happen to us to prepare us for our future selves and our future experiences. And it kind of annoys me that it means that while this pregnant state is hard for me to endure, it’s not as hard as what’s coming my way from the future. I want to shout, “Dang it!” because I prefer to have fun, easy, relaxing days where everything goes my way.
Why is it so against my nature to become a better person? I hate getting back into shape after a baby because it is so much hard work. But I love how good it feels to BE in shape – to have the energy to run around with my kids and be active and energetic and willing. After hard life experiences I feel the same way – usually grateful for the hard experience because I’m subsequently stronger. But anticipating it, going into it and experiencing it I feel like I’m ducking my head the whole time, trying to avoid the full glare of the oncoming experiences, as if that’s going to make it go away. Sheesh.
Just minutes after she was born:
I feel better already!
I think Joel is still overwhelmed. He keeps exclaiming to himself, me, the kids, and people over the phone, "We're a family of six now!" Take deep breaths, honey.
Here's a photo shoot a couple of days after she was born:
We have a tradition that started when we came home from the hospital with Asher. We laid Asher on our bed and Lincoln, still just 1, ran into his bedroom and brought out Ralphie, Joel's old cabbage patch kid and laid him next to Asher. It was like Lincoln was laying his baby Ralphie next to our baby Asher. We also snapped pictures of Clara with Ralphie (and Ed, seen here) Mary enjoyed her photo op with these guys, as well.
Other than being a titch windy, the weather was perfect.
Obviously, so was Clara in her moviestar sunglasses.
Orville Wright, seen here, spent CONSIDERABLE time trying to get his flying machine to...fly.
