Zen: 37 Weeks and Counting

Dearest Baby,

I would love to say that I have been this "zen" throughout the months you have been growing in my belly. I wish I could tell you that I only thought happy thoughts - that I meditated and did yoga every day, and ate only organic fruits and vegetables.

Alas, I have not been this good.

I have leaned over the toilet bowl more times than I care to remember.

I have eaten boxes of macaroni and cheese, bacon sandwiches and fruit sprayed with pesticides.

I have stumbled into the house after a day's work, only to head to bed with a blinding, debilitating migraine.

I have cried into my pillow, wishing that I could just have my body and my energy back.

I have burst into tears over silly things, slammed doors and yelled at your big sister (and your poor Daddy).

I melted in the summer heat, and found short walks to be the only exercise I could tolerate.

BUT....yes, my sweet baby girl, there is a "but."

I have put my hand on my belly in awe of your kicks and tumbles. I have rolled and bounced on the exercise ball. I have gone to yoga classes, and reconnected with you on a spiritual level. I have already imagined what your tiny hands and feet will look like. I have held other newborns, and excitedly pictured myself holding you. I have shared my love for you with your big sister, and together we sing songs to you before bed each night.

No, the pregnancy has not been bliss. It has not been zen. But it has been special in more ways than I could have ever imagined, and I am cherishing this - the last time I will grow a baby - with all my might.

I spent 28 years becoming "me" - growing from a child to a woman, falling in and out of love, and meeting and marrying my life partner, your Daddy. For the past 4 years, I have conceived and raised your big sister. By the time I am 37 years old, both you and your sister will be in school - needing me less, and releasing me from these "early years." Around the age of 50, I will have another 35 (if I'm lucky) years as an empty-nester, where I will rediscover the "me" without my children around.

These early years of childbearing and child rearing are just a teeny, weeny slice in the pie of life. On many days they feel as though they will never end, but I think I'm smart enough to recognize they will end. And that I will miss them.

And so we wait for you in joy and anticipation, and on rare occasions - in the dead of the night when I am pacing the floors, or in the morning when I feel you wake, or during the day when you kick and roll - I can say that I almost....almost...feel zen about it all.

Love Mommy