“Making a decision to have a child–it’s momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”
– Elizabeth Stone
We are eight months into this now, this little growing baby and I. Pregnancy is hard on my body and mind, but we are nearing the end and the anticipation is building. His nursery is coming along and nearly finished. His teeny-tiny clothes are washed, folded and put away in his dresser drawers. And he finally has a name.
I am fortunate to have a multi-talented husband who has been able to be all and do all things for us- ranging from home improvements, helping me expand and tend to my garden dreams when I cant, cooking meals and doing dishes. He plays with, reads to, and bathes Edyn every night. And even took maternity photos for me that I know I will cherish forever.
There are seven weeks left, or less I suppose. He’s just recently dropped into the lower position. He is so much more active than Edyn ever was when she grew inside me. I have a little bit of worry and anxiousness building as we get closer to the due date and closer to when my placental abruption began with Edyn. All the things that can go wrong are overwhelming. I try, unsuccessfully most of the time, to keep that anxiousness locked away in a tight box. Especially amidst the heat and humidity of high summer in the third trimester. Instead I am trying to revel in what is probably the last season in my life that I will feel a tiny human stir beneath my heart, protected within my embrace, never beyond my reach.