Diary-Like Entry: The Final Countdown of Pregnancy

I remember, back in October, the moment I found out I was pregnant. I was a couple days late with my period—nothing out of the norm for me—and I thought, why not, I’ll take a pregnancy test, even though I didn’t feel pregnant at all (unlike my first two pregnancies, when I knew right away). Truthfully, I thought I was wasting a pregnancy test.

Then I saw the digital word: PREGNANT. I took a total of three to confirm: pregnant, pregnant, pregnant.

At the time, I was at home with our cleaner (now my friend, Kristin), and Michael wasn’t answering his phone at work. I couldn’t contain my excitement, so I went downstairs and showed her the test, my heart racing, eyes swelling with tears. She started to clean for us when I was on bedrest with our twins, who we lost at 18 weeks, and she hugged me with tears in her eyes, knowing the journey we had.

It had been almost a full year of trying to conceive since we lost our boys, and I was beginning to think I was going to need medical support to conceive. Just days before, I spoke to a friend about Clomid and looked into IVF procedures. Seems a little ironic, that while I investigated ways to conceive, that our baby began to blossom inside of me.

Michael called me fifteen minutes after I told our cleaner. Calm, and in pure bliss, he reminded me that I never needed to worry. When he came home from work, he surprised me with a new houseplant to celebrate.

“Flowers die,” he said, “and we can see how this plant grows throughout your pregnancy, and where it’s at when she enters this world.”

As I mentioned, I never felt the initial symptoms of pregnancy—the achy boobs, the nausea, the mood swings—I felt entirely stable and normal, unlike my previous failed pregnancies. Also, unlike my previous pregnancies, where I constantly worried about outcomes and ultrasounds and appointments, I have felt completely calm and at peace with our baby girl.

It’s like I read her energy; she tells me, mom, everything will be okay. I have trusted that energy.

To be clear, this isn’t to say I’ve been a perfect pregnant woman and haven’t had my moments — surely, I have. There were a couple weeks I felt a pull to get the nursery in order now, and there was an evening when I cathartically cried. Generally, though, I’ve felt like this pregnancy has been like a summer breeze: light, refreshing, easy, beautiful, appreciated.

Even today, at 37 weeks, I feel no rush. Although many have told me this is the time I would feel huge and ready to be over with pregnancy (and surely, I do feel huge), I still feel at peace with these final weeks (or days?) before I meet my daughter.

Really, this pregnancy has been a reminder of how fast time truly goes — recalling that day in October, when I told our cleaner, and Michael brought home a plant. I realize this pregnancy has a time limit, that it is all temporary, that this is the final countdown. That soon, I will have a daughter in my arms, and my life will be forever changed.

I am sitting with what is and what I know in this moment:

That life has been freaking good to me. That I have an appreciation and love for my body that only my growing baby could expose to me (fun fact: I took naked selfies this morning that just fill my heart). That I cherish the health of my family and the love within it more than anything in this world. That right now, it’s just me and Michael (and our dogs), and this, too, is all a temporary experience. That a precious moment shouldn’t be wasted by wishing and wanting what is inevitability meant to come.

Often people ask me if I will have more children after our daughter. My honest answer: I don’t know. This may be my only pregnancy, so I am savoring it for all it is worth.

Another question I get: are you and Michael ready to be parents? Yes, we are so ready (although we still don’t know what it means when people ask if we are “ready”). It’s like the energy our daughter tells me: everything will be okay. It is an energy, a loving energy, that we trust more than anything. We are ready.

As I type this, I am laying down, and I feel my daughter kick inside my belly (I don’t think she’s a fan of the laptop on my stomach) and I will remember just how in awe of her I already am.

I am ready to meet you, my love, but also, I am in love with where we both are right now, in this moment.

From my heart to yours, baby girl.