The closer I am to fine
Just past the 30-week mark, this still-nameless boy makes his presence known at all times and in a host of ways. He seems to be a vigorous contortionist, full of probing, quivering, lightning-fast knees and feet and elbows; sometimes, he moves like a continental plate, reshaping the mountain of my belly, the summit moving in moments from one side to the other. He hiccups regularly and sleeps in brief stretches, awoken instantly by a gulp of cold water. This--all of this--I love.
He also is causing horrible heartburn, still-frequent nausea, regular exhaustion, significant anemia, occasional insomnia and a near-continual need to pee. All of this I could do without. But I'm finding it surprisingly bearable now, knowing that this is, absolutely, the last time; that while this pregnancy has not been fun--has, in fact, included mild depression, mental and physical difficulties and caused upheaval at work and at home--I am at peace with it. With less than ten weeks left, I know I can make it, and I can start to picture what our lives will look like with this tiny new person on the outside.
It helps that Josh and Olivia are universally excited. Jeff is...I guess "reserved" would be the right way to express his enthusiasm--he's not bubbling over but not bemoaning the change. He has a very sensible view: he sees the incomparable joy of a new baby but also the sober reality of sleepless nights and the complicated logistics of life with a newborn, a preschooler, a kindergartner and a wife with a long-hours, long-commute, high-stress career. And while he's absolutely right, I'm finding that the balance has finally and truly tipped for me: I'm feeling the thrill of it. The nothing-could-be-more-amazing-than-a-new-baby thrill. The thrill that was there with Olivia and Josh from the beginning but had mostly evaded me for the last seven months.
I suppose that whatever hormone cocktail is raging through my system is largely to thank for the change, and I'm prepared to crash again post-delivery, but as I get closer to the end, I'm feeling more and more stable. Less anxious. Happier. And I'm finally getting enough confidence to think that we'll all be fine.