32 weeks! The 30's seemed to sneak up on me - I always thought whenever I heard people say how many weeks pregnant they were that it was in the 30s when things seemed really legit. Due date around the corner kind of pregnant. And then, bam, here I am.
I've tried to write an update every 4 weeks for my own sake - I know one day the experience of being pregnant for the first time will be hidden in the dusty recesses of my brain and it will be easier for me to conjure up the lyrics to a top 10 song or the recipe for artichoke dip than it will be to remember this whole experience. It's why I blog, after all - I have a bizarre fear of forgetting and a need to commit words to paper or screen about anything meaningful in my life. And yet for some reason, I've had a tough time calling up the words to describe how I’ve been feeling around week 32. Neutral? Mixed emotions? Both don’t quite seem to do it just and sound like odd, almost cold, sentiments to describe what it's like to be 2 months away from meeting your first born.
I am excited to meet him. I can feel him kick and squirm now, and sometimes when I put my hand on my belly and feel what must be a butt or a head or a heel (who can actually tell?) an image of a baby's butt or head or heel will flash in my mind and I realize I'll get to see these body parts out here in the real world in just a few weeks. I fold the tiny laundry and think about squirming limbs and baby smells and how quickly this adorable little "Auntie Loves Me" onesie is going to get totally ruined by something coming out one end or the other. Well-meaning advice givers (them again) warn you that the newborn stage goes by in the blink of an eye, and I wonder as I match up teensy socks - will I appreciate that eye blink moment for what it is or will I be so sleep-deprived, overwhelmed, brain dead that I'll be wishing the days past - to him sleeping through the night, or being out of diapers, or whatever the next assumed stage is that's going to be easier than the one I'll be in?
Probably, I am guessing, both.
There's excitement and anticipation and reality of meeting this little person and a bit of amazement that he is a stranger to me now but in an instant will be so utterly familiar we'll wonder if we really ever knew a time before he existed.
But in the same vein, there's part of me that's basking in the last few weeks that we have of being Matt-and-Meghan, just the two of us (with a highly dependent dog often tagging along, of course). My due date is just two days after our fifth wedding anniversary. I have really, really loved our last 5 years together. It sounds cliché, but I can't remember ever being more happy and content in my life than I have been being half of this partnership. Writing about the blessings of my marriage would take up pages and pages of this blog, and I've probably already written that post a half dozen times. Suffice it to say, we have had a happy and fun five years and it's strange to know we stand on the brink of a huge change in our family dynamic, but not really know what exactly that means. In any case, I am not wishing these 8 weeks to get here any faster than I know they already will and just trying to soak up the last 2 months as a couple before we become a family.
To be honest, this isn't the post I expected to write about 32 weeks. I thought I was going to write about how dreadfully uncomfortable my office chair is to park my expanding self into for 10 hours at a time. Or how at 32 weeks, my walk has definitely committed itself to being more of a waddle. Or how ridiculous I look anytime I catch sight of my round belly hindering anything that could remotely be could described as graceful at my Dance Trance class, but I keep stubbornly going. Or how the constant kicks and jabs I am privileged to every night when I lay down to go to bed make my stomach looks like something out of a sci-fi movie. Or how we finally have a crib! But no mattress or change table or anything remotely indicative of a finished baby nursery. All of these things are true, but those aren't the words that came out when I started writing about 32 weeks. So this is what I'll stick with it, and what I will come back to when I need refreshing from the dusty recesses of my mind about what it was like to be 2 months away from meeting baby. 2 months away from being a family.