...and a picture...

My sister called today and said that I can't write about how big I am without posting a picture. Ha! I get that. So here is a picture from the wedding. In full disclosure, this is the best (most flattering) picture of me from the batch (kankles cropped) from that day. Because I have my dignity.

But I was told by my doctor yesterday that the baby is for sure 8 pounds already. And growing!

how big is becca?

So big!

This pregnancy has taken the cake for not-recommended-pregnancy-comments. I have heard it all, starting at 32 weeks when a woman said, "you must be due any day now!" And I had to tell her that no, I still had TWO months to go. I have a little tally list of people asking "are you positive it's not twins?!!" Even one who followed up, "and you had a full ultrasound? and they're sure there isn't another hiding in there?" And just today the receptionist at my doctors office said, "It's gotta be twins!" The receptionist at an OB clinic. Come on!

But the very best comment was this weekend at a wedding. In my large state I was trying to look inconspicuous when I clearly am not. One of my very favorite girls from church who is 6th or 7th grade came up to me and asked, "when are you having your baby again?" And I told her I still had three weeks to go. Then she carefully looked from my belly down to my ankles, scanning slowly all the way back up to my face and asked sincerely, "Do you like being that big?"

I might have been offended if I hadn't had so many weeks of comments to thicken my skin. So I laughed hard at her very honest question. And I told her, "you know, I definitely feel big and it's not always comfortable. But the amazing thing to me is that there is a fully developed human being inside of my body. That's why I'm so big...because my body is growing an entire life, and all that is needed to grow that baby is packed inside of me. The more I think about that, the more amazed I am that the whole thing can happen at all. And then I actually love being this big because being pregnant is really amazing."

36 weeks!

Early on in this pregnancy I felt waves of nervousness about the labor and delivery. After Hattie's 54 hour labor, that would obviously be quite normal! I had about a month where I thought about it a lot and hoped that maybe I would have an easy labor since the last one was such a doozie.

But then my cousin Sarah went way past her due date in December with her 5th child just like I had with Hattie. And I remembered the truth of every pregnancy: when the time finally arrives, you are ready to do whatever it takes to bring that baby out of your body and into the world. It's what makes this last month bearable. Because all of the wakeful nights, round ligament pains, pinched nerves and general discomfort are all leading up to one glorious end. And at this point, knowing the baby growing strong, you are ready to get to meet your babe.

The truth is, I love being pregnant and knowing there is a life growing in my womb. I love that thought and I have enough friends who would give anything for that feeling that I will never complain about being pregnant. I may hobble and I may groan and be uncomfortable, but I will always be grateful.

I'll be grateful even when I walk into a church conference at 32 weeks pregnant and the lady, who I don't know at all taking registrations yells, "Twins!" Even when another woman at that same conference said, "Due any moment! How exciting!" Even when everywhere I turn comments are made about how huge I am. I'm growing a life. I'm bigger this time than with the last three. But again, I'm growing a life. What gives!

That said, I am feeling better about the labor and delivery part. In a crazy twist, we are about to change hospitals and doctors so that more of our care will be covered by our insurance. It feels sort of late in the game, but 1) it will save us a ton of money (!!!) and 2) we "switched" our game plan mid (homebirth) labor last time, ending up in a new hospital with a new doctor while fully in labor, so four weeks feels like plenty of time!

I am preparing in other ways too. A few days ago the "before baby arrives" list came out, and Rory has dutifully been checking one task off each night. Probably the biggest "to do" is getting the second crib set up in Ivar and Elsie's room so that Hattie can join the fun of sibling sleepovers. I anticipate an adjustment period, but I think she'll likely love being one of the crew in their room.

And as always, I feel like there are items I would gladly endorse...things that make my life immeasurably better: First, Liquid Iron. Even if you are not pregnant but feel low energy give this a try. It doesn't taste delicious, but I LOVE the stuff because it feels like magic in my bones. I drink my tablespoon and within an hour feel my energy rise. It is incredible. I would go door to door to sell it.

I am wearing my bracoo belly band every single waking moment. It is not just a stretchy piece of fabric. It is more like a man-made muscle. It holds my belly up for me and I can function fine when I am wearing it. If I don't wear it, it feels like something falls out of place and I end up with a hurting back or pain in my legs. But if I wear it, I am fully able to do what I need to do.

And once again of all the pregnancy pillows the boppy wedge is still my favorite. I use that under my belly and a flat pillow between my legs and that's all I need for a semi-comfortable night's rest. I still wake up for a few hours each night and I try not to think about it too much or be too bothered. It means I'm tuckered before my day even begins, but I usually lay down for a while when Hattie is napping and that helps all around.

So that's my life at 36 weeks. I can hardly believe we are already this far along...life is about to change again in major ways and I don't feel quite ready. But I know from the others that a new baby is best enjoyed with a one-day-at-a-time set of expectations. So that is what I will expect...to take all that is ahead one day at a time. It's exciting to be getting so close!

mary, painter of nails.

I just finished painting Elsie's finger and toe nails, "in a beautiful pattern, pink, blue, pink, blue, pink blue. I love patterns don't you, mom?" And she told me "let's pretend I'm a 16 year old girl, because that's a big girl, and that my dad just dropped me off at your nail place to have my nails painted all by myself because I'm 16, which is big enough to do that." I told her the name of my nail studio was "Becca's Beautiful Nails" and that I was one of the best nail painters in the world. She said, "well not the whole world. That would be Mary. She would be the best, right? Because she had Jesus!"

Just when I had finished, Elsie slipped a bit off the toilet seat and smudged four nails in the mayhem. And Becca at Becca's Beautiful Nails had to paint over the messed up paint job, sigh about the polish on her shower curtain that was grabbed in the near accident and laugh at the hilarity of it all. I am actually terrible at painting nails but have found it doesn't ever matter how nice they look because there usually is quite a bit of smudging before they completely dry anyway. Perfection is never the goal...Mary probably painted perfect nails, I can never live up. But I will keep painting her smudgy nails because I love the time with my daughter. I love it so, so much.

the happiest day of my life

We have friends who are getting married on Sunday and it has had me thinking a whole lot about our own wedding day. I tell every engaged couple that the happiest day of my life was the day after our wedding, after the gift opening, when it was just Rory and I wearing normal clothes, driving up to Lake Superior for our honeymoon. I realized at some point in the drive that all I had just signed up for was to live out the rest of my days with my best friend. And I had chosen a good guy. I knew it. The actual wedding day had been so full of emotion and feelings and a general sense of overwhelm. I cared what other people thought, I wanted to be sure everyone enjoyed everything. I carried the weight of 500 guests on my shoulders and the actual wedding was awesome, but intense and exhausting.

It was that next day sitting in the car together, beginning the rest of our normal lives, that I heaved a sigh of relief. And felt so glad that Rory and I were bound together for life. It just felt so good and right.

And now, almost 12 years later, Rory and I are living out our covenant vows in ways we never saw coming. These days we find ourselves taking Hattie to lots of appointments together and walking a road we wouldn't choose for our little girl. It's still full of uncertainties and there actually isn't anything concrete to report, but we've been to see her doctors a few times and will be going to see them again, running all sorts of tests. And each time we arrive in the waiting room and Rory signs us in and I entertain our kids I feel the same heave of relief, so glad that we are bound together for life.

It has me thinking about how important that decision is when you choose who you will marry. And how I would personally like to sit down with every young girl I know and explain what it means to marry a man. A man who carries the responsibility of his family on his shoulders, understanding his important role as a father and a husband. A man who carries the burden of providing for his family. A man who knows that he is the very most important part of passing on a living faith in Jesus to his children.

I'm just so glad that the Becca-in-a-white-dress married Rory, a man who is fully invested in her and their family. When you get married it is hard to imagine what it might feel like when you "grow in love." But lately I am feeling our roots growing deeper and it is amazing.

(And lest you think all is always perfect...I always like to link to this post I wrote on marriage counseling and how the Godly counsel we received for three months during our tenth year of marriage changed the foundation of our relationship in mighty and miraculous ways.)