Egg shells

My due date is in one week.

One freaking week.

We are living in day-to-day mode in hopes that this baby comes a bit early, like his sister, on one hand, but also trying not to get too frustrated if he prefers to come late.

It’s a very, very, VERY delicate balance.

And I have lots of support: people who are eager but patient. People who can give me sympathy without pressure. People who understand that my head is not the most fun place to be right now. Or really anywhere in my skin, as this baby continues to grow and shift and find all new ways to get comfy that usually result in my feeling less-so. 

So don’t feel too bad for me, because on the whole, I’m doing great.

What I’ve become acutely aware of, though, is just how vulnerable women get as these days and weeks tick by. Since Nora came at 38 weeks, I had no real comprehension of just how long another month of being pregnant would feel. And just how easily one person’s eagerness to meet the new baby feels like WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE to get this kid out now. Or how a casual comment from a care provider can shift a mother’s entire perspective. The idea of induction isn’t quite so far out of question, because, really, you’re so close to your due date anyway.

And the thing is, we’re all guilty of a thoughtless, less-than-supportive, comment. Even if you’ve been 42 weeks pregnant, you can sometimes forget just how sensitive mothers are in these final days. So I’m not asking you to walk around on egg shells because of me, but just… be kind.

This is a pretty fantastic article my doula sent me the other day, on how to begin to empathize and respect women in those final days and weeks. And now, since the ‘any day now’ is closing in on me, I’m off to enjoy some of this sunshine and rub my giant belly some more.


In that one moment

when you wake up in the dead of night and feel them

the presence of all the women gone before you

Your mother and hers and on and on.

Your sisters and friends

and even enemies who have traveled down this road

to birth.

Some in fear, and joy.

With purpose and pain

Suffering humiliation and finding empowerment

Laughing, crying, grieving for something lost

Embracing all that is new.

It is a well worn path

You travel alone, uplifted by all that has been

to write your own story of all that might be.

In the still moments, you wait, and rock and

cry out to all the mothers and gods who will help you.

And soon a babe is born.