Not just yet

You know what I did last Sunday? Nothing. Well, that's not true, I slept in, ate, took a nap, ate, watched a movie, ate, watch the Oscars, ate again, slept again. All in my pajamas, don't be jealous. You know when was the last time I did that? I honestly can't remember. 

Although that may sound like a dream Sunday to some of you, it is the opposite of how I normally spend my time. I like to catch up with friends, walk on the coastal trail, read a book, grocery shop, go downtown, I mean, it was Fur Rondy weekend for heaven's sake, the weather was a freaking dream, and I just stayed home, IN MY PAJAMAS. A clear cry for help. 

I felt it coming a few days ago, this fog of sadness taking over me that forced me to hunker down into myself, talk to no one but my husband, and cry. It was the darndest thing because I could not actually pinpoint what exactly I was sad about. So I just hid for days, praying, soul searching, tearing up, trying to figure out if my hormones had finally gotten the best of me. 

This morning I got the Baby Center email telling me I am officially in my third trimester, then I got a reminder call that birthing classes start tonight, and as I got on the treadmill hoping for the exercise to clear my head, each step I took I thought "it's almost over, it's almost over" then tears. That's when I figured it out: I am not ready, I don't want it to be over. 

I have been saying it for weeks, I am not ready to have this baby, but it's not because the thought of delivery is a bit daunting, it's not because I don't know what to do with a newborn baby, it's not because my life as I know it will completely change, it's because I am not ready to give this up. This bond, this closeness, the feeling of my child moving inside me, knowing that he listens to the beating of my heart, the rhythm of my breath, the sound of my voice. Knowing that we will never be this close again is hard because the last 7 months have been such a life changing gift for me, No, I am not ready to give this up, I don't want to miss it just yet, it's just too good to let go. 

People tell me that in 10 weeks I will be ready, that I will be uncomfortable, big, and in pain, that the physical aspect alone will get me there, not to mention the prospect of actually meeting my baby, touching his skin, kissing him, they say it was designed that way, and maybe it is, I am just not there yet. 

So for the rest of this amazing time I will soak this up by the second, the purest form of love I have ever felt. 


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