39 Weeks and Hard At Work

As you can see I am gracefully leaning into the free time as we prepare for Ms. Pepps. It sure isn't easy to swing a golf club when you have a full-term child sitting just below the ribs. She has actually dropped some so I can eat and breathe a little better, but she's still in there and that club wasn't being very forgiving. It was a gorgeous morning on Tuesday, July 7, so Jeff and I headed to the driving range to enjoy some cool breezes and swings. We are pretty much ready to go for Ms. Pepps-- we figured out how to put the car seat on the stroller and we have washed almost everything that will touch her delicate skin. Jeff installed the baby monitor today, which is very cool: it will sound an alarm if the baby stops breathing for more than 20 seconds. In this advanced era there are lots of gadgets to prevent SIDS, and we got a recommendation on this monitor from one of Jeff's former bosses.

In addition to the general nesting at our house, we have survived other important feats. Chiefly, we had a little visit to the Labor and Delivery department of the hospital on Sunday morning. This visit was spurred by my astronomical fears about Pepps' health after she spent several days being very chill. Too chill for mama's comfort. I wasn't feeling those knees to my ribs or the fist to my liver so I sort of freaked out. By Sunday morning, I just couldn't take it anymore and decided I had to have confirmation that she was ok or I would end up giving birth from a straight jacket heavily sedated. The hospital visit was a great experience. Our nurse Susan was really supportive of us checking on Ms. Pepps and told us to come back if we got worried before the delivery. Once we heard the heartbeat and could see her health as measured on what looks like an EKG sheet, we settled in and watched Wimbeldon from the comforting confines of the triage room. I had been so worked up with worry and fear, which was not subtle, but after getting confirmation that she's still thriving in mama's womb, I felt such a relief that I just can't explain. Looking back, I think she probably dropped on Friday, which is exactly when I started feeling her differently. The nurse said that the record for someone coming in to hook up to the fetal monitor was 19 visits. I have had 2 and unless I double up between now and Delivery Day, I won't be the record. That's just fine with me, because my little heart just can't take that amount of stress!

Jeff and I have also managed to both be off of work simultaneously and not drive each other to drink or drug. We weren't sure that we'd be able to balance the togetherness with the waiting and the anxiety and the boredom, but we are having a good time and we know we are lucky to have the luxury of time off before the baby to mentally and physically prepare our house and our psyches for the new member whose arrival is imminent!

Other triumphs include the small inconvenience that Jeff endured because of my somewhat laxed attitude towards prompt cleaning of a plastic water bottle that I may or may not have filled with soy milk about a month ago, but never cleaned out. He confessed he was "angry with me for a few minutes," when he opened the Nalgene bottle I borrowed from him and discovered the curdled soy milk. With no way to justify that little oversight, I agreed wholeheartedly that he deserved to be mad at me for a long long time. He says my punishment is to have to smell it before he throws it out. I cited the 8th amendment's prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment, but his wound was too fresh; he'll stick that thing up my nose when I am least expecting it.

We are beyond blessed that the weather has been unseasonably cool. Hot days and end of pregnancy do not mix. I cannot emphasize this enough. When the thermometer reaches over 80 degrees and the humidity starts climbing, my cells start to swell and I can barely bend my knuckles.

I also had a little dream come true today. I have been attending prenatal yoga at the greatest studio with the most gentle and motherly teacher in the Midwest.

Yes, Bloom Yoga in Chicago has been one of the happiest parts of my pregnancy. I have attended the prenatal classes with Dee, along with about 37 other pregnant women each class. It's amazing to be surrounded by so many pregnant women at one time. I love the class for several reasons. First, it's so comforting to see that pregnant bodies come in infinite shapes and sizes. That is, it was always reassuring that there were so many ways to "look" pregnant and to carry the weight. Second, I found all the women there so beautiful. It was so miraculous to spend 1.5 hours with other women doing what I am doing, which is to make healthy, loving choices for my body and my baby. Third, it really helped with the transition from hard-core runner/cardio exercise to loving, gentle, family-centered exercise. I can't say enough about that as a process that was important to me in becoming a mother. For so many years exercise hovered on a fine line between health and abuse, but even before I knew I was pregnant, I had an overwhelming sense that it was time to be gentle and prioritize something (anything) besides sweating my ass off and getting the cardio boost. Thank you, Bloom Yoga and Dee, for helping me enjoy the transition and find something deeper and more enduring than the seismic calorie burning of a spin class. Best of all, one of my nearest and dearest friends is now pregnant and she came with me today. It was always a vision of mine to have a good friend pregnant with me at the same time who could share the joy of pre-natal yoga with me. That dream was a reality today when Krista B came to yoga with her taut and sassy 6-week belly, housing a future Pepps' playmate.

The very best part of the yoga class is the end (just like the end of a long run, so that hasn't changed), when Dee leads us through a meditation during shivasana. Every time she tells us to send a message to our baby: "You are perfect. You are special. Everything is as it should be. You are welcome." I have never heard her say those lines without tearing up.

You are welcome.

What a beautiful message for a baby. Every baby should be welcomed into the world and his or family with that simple message. If my preparations say nothing else, I hope they communicate that our baby girl is welcome into our lives.