I am Tired, with a capital T, but in so many, many good ways. We had your brother baptized today, in the midst of family and loved ones, and it was beautiful. And then we celebrated both his baptism and upcoming birthday in the cramped but cozy quarters of our tiny house, and it was joyous, even as we all tripped over, squeezed through, bumped into, hovered over, and hung a little too close to one another. I was reminded of why I occasionally agree to host such events, despite the incredible stress and anxiety the planning of them causes me. The love makes it worth it- so much love in one place- and the incredible happiness I find in seeing familiar faces again, which time has separated from me for far too long; that experience of grasping them in greeting, and feeling like I've finally come home.
There is much to share about this day, but it can wait, and it will. For now, I am relieved that I can spend tonight focused on you, not least because my little notes to you run on the short-and-sweet side, and require only one picture. I am content, for now, to be spending a few quiet moments in contemplation of you, but I must admit to simultaneously pining just a little bit for the soft, warm space of my own bed, and the quiet darkness that I hope will ease me smoothly into dreamland.
It's been hard to come up with new things to share with you about your development, however. You're pretty much full-formed in there and just need a bit more time to hunker down in the safety of my womb as your miniature lungs catch up to all of your other amazing developments. In the meantime- oh, how you'll grow! It's nearly impossible to gauge it visually, day-by-day, but I can feel it in the strength and scope of your movements. They are growing stronger, and more restricted; more squirms, less kicks and punches. Though, I did see you do some combination movement earlier in the week that started as a protruding punch (or kick) and dragged itself several inches across my belly before disappearing back within. It was pretty amusing to watch.
Unfortunately, it seems that the bigger you get, the more annoyed my uterus becomes with me, and every little thing that I am trying to do. I have learned, in the last week, that now is probably a good time to start making a concerted effort to take things much easier. It is my hope that if I pay careful attention to what my body is telling me now, that I can avoid reaching the level of incapacitation that I had to endure for a couple of weeks during my pregnancy with your brother.
To be honest, I need no real encouragement to take this approach (though I was feeling a bit frustrated last night about the position I was in, unable to take action on something that was bothering me), as I don't have much energy to apply to keeping active these days, anyway. And your father, as always, has been amazing in his efforts to help and support me, making sure that it's a rare day that I have to carry your brother or sister up the stairs more than once or twice.
So here we are, at 29 weeks, and I'm just starting to taste the anticipation that makes the last leg of this journey so difficult to be patient throughout. My mind knows all too well that wishing you here sooner wouldn't make it so, and besides, life is so much simpler and easier now, with you on the "inside." However, my heart longs more deeply to meet you in person, once and for all. When I finally close my eyes in sleep, I imagine I'll be dreaming of the day that I get to embrace you, to look upon a face entirely new, yet familiar, and recapture the sensation of "coming home" again.