31 weeks pregnant and growing

When we first told Ivar we were pregnant, you may remember, I explained the timing by telling him that the baby would come right about the time the combines began to work in the field. At the time (February) there was still snow on the ground, snow that needed to be melted, fields that needed to dry out, seeds that needed to planted and a few hot months to grow that corn healthy and tall. It seemed very far away, but time flies, and here we are with corn taller than my head. The only thing left is for the corn to turn yellow and then for the combines to come. (And actually, this baby will come before the combines harvest the corn, but we're just going to go with it, since the timeline has been so helpful this long...)

Yesterday marked 31 weeks for this little one inside of me. The week we found out we were pregnant with this baby, two dear friends had devastating miscarriages. Both were life-threatening for the mom's and both led to emergency surgery in the hospital. It meant that we were quiet for a long time about our own pregnancy, feeling the sorrow of their loss.  But it has also meant that I have not taken one second of this healthy pregnancy for granted. I am grateful. 

I am overwhelmingly grateful. I have a very active baby inside of me, with flips and tricks unending. At night I can watch my belly roll all around with knees and elbows and a bottom somersaulting in my womb. I don't even have to touch it to feel it, I can see the belly waves through my clothes. It is a joy, and sometimes I need to tell my baby to please tuck its elbow or knee back in, because I feel like I have an internal bruise near my belly button from something jabbing me so hard on the inside. Much of this week I have walked around gently pressing that part of my belly, trying to get that little extremity to stop hurting me.

It's also good that I am grateful to be pregnant, because I have had more hilarious comments this time around than I could ever imagine. I am bigger with this pregnancy than the other two, and people seem to have noticed (pictures posted here are flattering. It's my blog, I can crop how I want to!). A woman in a bathroom asked when I was due and when I said "end of September" her eyes got wide and she said, "Oh I thought you were due any day!" Someone else recently told me, "Based on your size, I bet you'll be early. Really early." And then there are the "you sure it's not twins?!!" 

So far these comments have just made me more amused than hurt. Amused that people still think it's okay to say these things. And I do not let these words sink in very far because the truth is right within me: I have a life growing inside of me. It is a gift. And I won't pout or fret or wish this weight away, because I am carrying a life in my womb.

The very, very best part is that the joy and excitement and love I have for this baby is as strong as the anticipation and eager expectancy that I had with Ivar and Elsie. Sometimes I just smile because I am so happy to have another baby on the way. This baby is wanted, the extra pounds will be worked off eventually, and more than anything I am grateful to be undoubtedly inhabited once again.