I've been remiss and have let five weeks go by (can that really be?) without "noting" the passage of this pregnancy. It is important to me to "put down" the bones of this one. Thirty-Three weeks. The prelude to the start of the countdown. First, my sister needs to have her baby boy (no later than 9 days after her due date of TODAY). Then, it is my turn--seven weeks away.
She is sitting low and impeding my own sitting for long periods. Yet, I'm in no hurry at all. To "strangers" (people I only see once a week or less) I feign the usual: "oh, I'm just so ready", "my back aches", " darn heartburn", "blah, blah"--all valid symptoms, but, really, I'm in no hurry. I love the feel of her duking out her soupy existence inside. I am the only one who will ever have experienced the echos of her life inside before the spinning starts. Right now, she has pure stillness. No demands. At all. She eats and sleeps and poops in peace, sans sobs and stings.
The life of a pregnant woman, especially at this stage, when the life of the child is manifested by obvious movement and girth, is complicated. Craig related the story of a patient who came into the ER with symptoms that led to the discovery of a tumor in her pituitary gland. One of them was "I can't see straight". She concluded, "I think I must be pregnant". No, not pregnant, a tumor. But, I told Craig, I can't see straight either, when I'm pregnant. But (probably the most used word in this bloggity blog), a pregnant woman and her daily assertions must not be downplayed because of this condition. She is halfway occupied, thus twice overworked. Blessed am I that Craig still weighs heavily my "daily assertions"--or so he tells me.
I'm so wordy this week. I think it is the nature of transition. While I spend extra minutes "cleaning out" nooks, crannies, cupboards and closets, I am also clearing the head. Don't mind me, I'm just pregnant.