Don't Blink!

This 5th pregnancy has been different. By different, I don't mean symptom-wise, or because it's a girl, or "how I'm carrying", or due to living in a different house or the fact that I kind of have Gestational Diabetes, but none of us (including my OB) are fully willing to label it as that, because my case is sooooo borderline, easily controlled, and, well, I have giant babies anyway, so who cares. Kind of. It's simply been different.

I know it's been 8 months, and I only have a few weeks before Baby 5.O arrives, but I still cannot believe I am pregnant! How did a baby get in there!? Of course, I know how. I'm a doctor. Duh. But, to have an "unplanned" pregnancy, always leaves you a bit in awe. In shock. Every so often, I look at George and think, you just weaseled your way into this world, didn't ya? (As he was also a surprise. Him, maybe should have known better...5.O? A pharmaceutical company might owe us some money, at least college tuition. Seems fair.)

Anyway, despite the absolute, constant and utter discomfort, my mind cannot fully wrap around the idea that I am to go through labor again. That a baby will be here. That she will be ours. That she will come home and live with our family. I have noticed with each pregnancy, that this dissociation from my condition gets worse. Perhaps I am so busy with the other 4, there is no room to think about the future. I don't obsessively wonder what she will look like. Or worry about her temperament. And I absolutely have ZERO, ziltch, notta, nothing, no nesting tendencies, whatsoever. None. Period. I don't even care to look for the car seat. Her hospital gown and whatever anyone gifts us (washed) will be all she wears for weeks, I think.

I told Matt, the other day, that I didn't think I had complained as much this pregnancy. He laughed. He pointed out that I was ridiculous. And began reciting the few times in the last HOUR that I had already complained. OK, to him, maybe. But to social media, family, friends...I am just tired of complaining. This has been my condition for 4 years in total, and 6 years with some slight breaks. I cry a lot. Brock came up to me and said, "pregnancy must be horrible. You're not yourself. You don't like to do everything anymore. Your back is broken." (Glad my 6 year-old gets it, too bad the 31 year old doesn't.)

I have even tried to be more patient with the strangers that comment. I have learned to not mind most questions. When are you due? Do you know the gender? That's a big baby. You must be ready to go, anyday. The one question I dread though? Is it your first? Ugh. Do I have to answer honestly? I mostly hate to answer because it sounds obnoxious. Every. Single. Time. To go from is it your first, to no, it's my FIFTH. Invariably, this leads to the question of what I have at home? What are their ages? Then some amount of undeserved praise. My personal favorite. "You are a saint." For what? Not murdering one of my own children? For populating an over-populated world? I will never understand that comment. What I really hope, is that the questioning stops there, because if it goes further and they find out I am a Family Physician, then I'm really in for it. I'll be honest, people. Compliments make me sincerely uncomfortable! I truly believe that most of us do what we can with the personality, energy, body, mind and spirit we've been given. This happens to be where my genetics and upbringing lead me. I deserve no compliments. And truly, in full disclosure, I often feel so incredibly self-centered, that compliments just make me feel guilty.

I have spent this entire pregnancy trying to trudge through the symptoms. Move into, organize and keep clean a new house. Take care of 4 children. Build a new medical practice. Love on my new nephew, niece and other friends' babies. I have tried with all my energy to "ignore" my condition. With that mentality, I have suppressed a lot of the wonderment and amazingness that is pregnancy. This very likely could be and is my LAST pregnancy...and I have ignored it. I can't help but smile when I feel the baby moving. I feel complete relief that she is in there growing and healthy. I think, this is the only part of pregnancy I will miss. Feeling a body in there. Knowing I am creating someone. No feeling in the world can match the experience of creating another human from your own body. I'm not saying that it's necessarily the best experience you will ever have, as I think actually rearing the child is better, but the feeling is, simply unmatched. There is nothing else like it.

So, here I sit. In the blink of an eye. Staring down my last few weeks of this pregnancy. And it's just now hit me. It's for real. She is coming. She is here. She needs a name. She is growing, beautifully inside of me. I love her so much. I love that she will get to join our family. I cannot wait to see her brothers with their newest sibling. I love seeing my husband as a new father, he does it so well. I do not take for-granted the blessing, joy, and privilege it is to be such an integral part of this process, her life. Even though it's my 5th, I still see the anticipation and excitement from my family and closest friends. They love her.

So, even though I will probably continue to cry every night, for a multitude of reasons. At least one of those reasons will be due to the overwhelming love and happiness I feel for my future daughter. Right now. Maybe I am a bit late to the ballgame. But I am there. I am in it. And I always will be, your mom.