When people ask me if I feel ready, I can only answer "yes." Sure, there are still things on the to-do list and we could be farther along in practicing our Bradley exercises... I could use more time to limber up for labor or decorate his room... but I am ready. I feel like I've been ready all along.
There is an empty space in our quiet moments these days, a space I can't help but fill with the imagined breaths and sighs of our newborn baby boy. When he pushes and rolls inside me I can touch him in a way that is so different from even a month ago. There are knees and elbows, hands and feet. His little behind presses hard into my ribs, yet yields politely when I give him a gentle nudge with the flat of my palm. He is a good baby.
I am working on a birth plan - just a sketch really of our vision for that day. We are committed to a peaceful entrance to this world for our son, and our plan is simply for quiet, calm and love to envelope the three of us, like a blanket. We want our voices to be the first he hears. Our warmth, our hearts, our kisses will welcome him home.
I am excited for the labor, for that realization that he's finally coming. I've had a few practice contractions in recent weeks, and I'm grateful for the slow, easy test runs. They don't feel great, but I'd rather have some idea what to expect and prepare for than have no idea at all. I trust that my husband will do everything he can to keep me relaxed and mindful of what is really happening, to not let me get lost in the sensations or panicked by the pain.
We've rearranged the living room, which will be where he's born barring any complications or last minute urges to labor in bed upstairs. Our midwife will have a birthing pool for us in the next couple of weeks, and I'm obsessively seeking out foam mats and pillows to build myself a little labor den on the floor. Who knows what will actually happen, but I have the sense now at least that I will want to labor in the pool but deliver squatting on the floor. Ask me tomorrow and it will probably be the reverse. Ask me in two weeks and I could tell you I want to give birth on the grass outside. (I'm kidding. Or am I?)
As I think about this next month and all of the unknowns (will he come early? will he come late? how will I know that it's starting?), one thought always pushes the many others away... our baby will be here soon. Just like the last month passed in the blink of an eye, this one before us will be over sooner than we think. And then here he will be, in our arms, breathtaking in his beauty. I cannot wait to meet him. To see which parts of both of us have made up this new person, to look into his eyes and find that instant bond of "I know you, I've always known you" that until now has only lived in our hearts. To hold his tiny hand and kiss his soft little belly, to see him in his father's arms... such complete happiness, joy like I've never truly known.
I just can't wait. But I will, and I'll be patient in my understanding that for every day passing we are one day closer to finding our lives forever changed.
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