36 weeks (plus a few days)

Here we are in week 36, slowly inching our way to week 37. A few days from now I will be carrying a "full term" baby around which is so much more relieving then I ever anticipated it would be. His lungs are nice and developed, he has just enough brown fat on his body to regulate his own temperature, and his reflexes are daily improving. Of course, I still have a few more weeks until my due date, but the sense of accomplishment I feel at this point is really wonderful. We've almost made it, and the finish line is very much in sight. 

That all said, I'm starting to wig out. 

This morning has been a perfect example of that. I'm curled up in a little nook of the cozy Panera not too far from our house. I've spent the morning enjoying my favorite type of escape, the type where I can people-watch, pray and process for as long as I'd like without worrying about the clock or any particular responsibility I have. It's a "leave it all behind" type of escape, and it's very freeing. 

Then "it" hits me... A wave of overwhelming revelation about the transition I'm in. I remember that it's only a matter of days before my life is going to completely change forever. This season of pregnancy is simply incomparable to anything else. It is one of the most dynamic experiences I've ever endured, and while it has felt like a very slow 9 month journey, I sometimes find myself longing for more time to prepare. Yet, somehow I know that when he is in my arms and I hear him cry for the first time, I'll never want to go back. I'm becoming a mom. 

Well-meaning woman love to give visibly pregnant women lots of advice about the things that are to come. One of the pieces of advice that I've heard numerous times throughout the last few months is typically presented in some variation of this statement, "Enjoy "_____" (shopping, eating a warm meal, sleeping, showering, etc...) now, because you won't be able to do that once baby is here!" ... No matter how true those words are, they're negative, and the more I hear it, the more anxious I become about "losing my freedom." 

What a shame to miss out on everything that a new season (and title) have for me because I'm caught up in the fear of being "less free"... Sometimes I forget what God said;

There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven--

Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NASB)

My promise to my son is this: I will embrace each and every season we go through together. I will learn to spend my days looking forward and not backwards. I will celebrate the time I had as a single (and often selfish) young lady, but I will not waste my dreams longing to return. I will cherish the day I get to cradle you in my arms just as much as the day when I see you walk across the stage in cap and gown. I'll be in this moment, here at Panera, feeling very free... and, in a few months, when you're screaming in your little seat at the table with me, I will kiss you and thank God that He trusted me enough to care for you. Sometimes I will fail, but I promise to always try.

I realize that I don't often share such vulnerable words in this very public forum, but I guess being 9 months pregnant makes you say and do pretty cheesy things. So, those are my big thoughts, and here is my big belly:

I look mad. I promise I'm not.

Happy weekend!

-K