Bulging and Beautiful???

So I was talking with a friend recently about how much like a heifer I feel. She had great insight to share. There is this window of pregnancy when you just look so cute! You are that really cute pregnant lady and people can't get enough of how cute you look. Before that time is the awkward transition time when you know you are pregnant (hello?!?!? I never had a pooch like this before! It is so obvious that I am pregnant!) but no one else is brave enough to ask you. This is probably for the best. Because I would hate to be that woman who was asked if she was and she wasn't! 

Then you enter the blessed window of beautiful bulging belly. You are the cutest preggo lady! Everything you wear is super cute! You are glowing, you feel great, the baby is moving. Life is great!

But that is just a period. A good long period, but a period nonetheless. And as you get closer and closer to that much anticipated due date you leave that wonderful period and enter the world of cows. Yup! Bovine. That is what you begin to feel like. When getting in and out of cars is a struggle. When bending down to pick something you dropped is a chore. When you can NOT find anything to wear that is both comfortable and cute. So you have to make a choice: comfort or fashion. And if your midwife tells you that your baby is breach and it is better to not wear maternity pants to encourage him/her to flip then all that is left to you are dresses that used to look cute on you, but now just look like muumuus on you. And that is where I am right now. And I feel ugly.

I hate to complain. I mean, I tried for a long time to get pregnant, doubting my bodies ability to even be able to conceive. What right do I have to complain? I should be rejoicing at the wonderful miracle that my body is doing something I doubted it was even capable of. But I am still a woman. Still trained to judge myself by exterior beauty, even by my hippie, care-free standard of beauty. There it is- I am a product of this society that places way more value on outward appearance than inner strength.

So what is a girl to do? I don't know. I've never been here before. And not many have shared this experience with me, so I am wondering if I am just bigger than most women get when pregnant? I mean, I am a small frame, and my belly is something to marvel at. I suspect people are wondering at the physics of how it is I am able to actually stand with this ginormous belly! Still something must be done. Because I need to remind myself that I am beautiful. That what is happening in my body is beautiful and marvelous because I do not want to spend the last few weeks of this pregnancy bitter, but rather I want to relish in it, because who knows if I will ever be here again.

And so I found myself putting on eye liner these last two days. And making myself get dressed in the nicest outfit I can put together, even though I am on maternity leave and rarely leave the house. But I do this because when I walk into the bedroom and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, it makes me feel better. And better is much preferred over bitter.

And one last thing that I have done, I asked my partner in crime to take pictures of me so that I can remember this time. This amazing and special time.

I know that this is no Demi Moore or Brittany Spears level of beauty.

But it ain't no cow either. 

It is a miracle. A beautiful miracle. 

I am a beautiful miracle.

I Hate Finishing Books

Confession, I have purposely not finished reading a book series that I love because I hate it when books end. I have all the books in the series, and my husband has read them all and said that it was a good end to the series. But the fact that it is the end is enough to keep me from reading it... for 3 years!

I do this with allot of things. Like TV shows. I will watch nearly an entire TV series and when I get near the end will suddenly feel compelled to find some other show to watch. It will literally take me months and months to finish watching the last 3 episodes of a series. I just hate endings. I get so sad. Like I am saying goodbye to a dear friendship that I don't want to end. And while I know that all things on this earth have an end, I like to live in willful ignorance and ignore that fundamental detail.

Here I am at the end of this pregnancy, and I am sad. Isn't it funny? Most women are eager for their little one to come out, to be born, to give their bodies relief and to finally meet the beautiful baby. Don't get me wrong. I really do want to meet my precious Little, but I have enjoyed this pregnancy.

A friend recently asked me how this pregnancy has been treating me? Have I liked being pregnant? No one had ever asked me that in the 36 weeks I was pregnant. I needed a moment to reflect on this. I think I came up with a simple short answer for her, but later that I night I really thought about that question. And my answer is that I have LOVED being pregnant. My body has changed in so many ways, and it has had its challenges, but for the most part this has been a beautiful experience! I know that I am lucky, that things could have been much worse. That I was graciously spared the dreaded morning sickness. But I was spared of it and of so many other challenges. I am so blessed to have had such a wonderful time. I love feeling the little one inside me move, and how the movements have changed as the space inside has changed. I love having a beautiful big belly. I love how people are compelled to reach out and touch it. And I love how I make people laugh with my disproportionate belly size.

Today is my birthday, it is the last one that I will ever have where I can be selfish and make it all about me. It is, in a sense, an end, which makes me sad. Also, this week I am considered to be full-term. Another end. Another pang of sadness. I want to meet my baby, but I don't want this beautiful experience to end. If I am blessed to have another child, I know that I can look forward to this experience again, but it will be different. My husband and I were talking about this. This is the first time for us. It is full of first time surprises and joys. Next time there will be joy, certainly, but it will not be like the first time. It will be different.

So here I am, at the end of several things, trying to relish and savor the last of them, especially since in this situation I cannot simply ignore the event and spread it out over several months. The end is coming, no avoiding it, and with it a new beginning full of new joys I am sure. But an ending is still and ending, and my sentimental self is sad to loose such sweet a friend.

Brutal/Beautiful Holidays

Every year my church has a Living Nativity for the community to enjoy. It is really a beautiful event. There are sheep and a donkey, high schoolers dressed as angels and shepherds, elders dressed as the wise men. It is a bonding time for the church family, and a blessing to be able to share the wonder of the season with the neighborhood.

Last year (December 2011) my husband and I were asked to play Mary and Joseph. The Living Nativity had a twist that year in that Mary sang a song, and the shepherds also sang a song. The song I sang was the Magnificat, the prayer and praise Mary says in response to learning that she was chosen to be the mother of God. It is a beautiful prayer and one that shows the wisdom held deep within this young woman. 

So there I am holding a baby doll, sometimes I was handed a real baby to hold when one was available, but holding a baby and looking down at it in the iconic pose. And the whole time I held back tears, wondering if I would ever be blessed to hold my own baby. At that time I had been trying to conceive for about 6 months with no luck. And I was waffling between hope and despair. Trying to keep my focus on the miracle of the birth of my god, I struggled not to dwell on my own trials. I remember seeing a family come up and approach me, and they had a toddler with down syndrome, and my heart ached to see how much love that family poured on that cute little boy. I was jealous for that. For the opportunity to pour out love, no matter the circumstances. Yes, he had down syndrome, but it didn't matter because he was their baby, and I wanted that... a baby. It was all I could do to keep it together. 

On our way home, Jonathan told me that he could tell I was having a hard time. He reached for my hand and told me that we would be okay, that we would have a family one day. He was so confident and calm about it. I couldn't argue with him. The Holidays are brutal for a woman TTC!

Fast forward a year to December 2012. My husband and I were asked to be in the Christmas Musical at church. Guess who we were asked to play??? That's right, Mary and Joseph. In the musical, Mary sings a song about the hope of the world growing within her womb. It was perfect, because my own womb was growing and my own hope was and is being fulfilled within. 

Yes, I was holding another doll, but that bump under the doll is real. And this time I fought to hold back tears, but tears of gratitude and tears of joy. A year ago I had nearly thrown the towel in, tired of trying to do something that so many do accidentally. I never would have guessed that in a year's time I would be so close to realizing my dream of being able to pour out love on my own baby. Yes, tears of joy and excitement were indeed in order! The Holidays to a woman who has struggled with TTC can be overwhelmingly beautiful. So so beautiful.

To a Young and Hopeful Me

The story behind this shirt: When I was in high school my aunt handed me this shirt, knowing that I love all things Maya and traditional (proud of my Maya roots, just like her :).  She said that she didn't fit in the shirt and that she wanted me to have it until the day she could. At the time, I also couldn't fit in it. Too big. But I thought it was too beautiful to give back. I also thought that if I was ever pregnant this shirt would fit. Fast forward 15 years- this is the first time I am wearing this shirt.

That day I couldn't help but reflect on the naive and innocent thoughts of a freshman in high school. How simple it all seemed to me then. How little I new about the trials that would lay ahead. And yet, how beautiful to see the world with such assured hope. 

To that freshman I would like to say, "Well, we did it. We are wearing that shirt that you faithfully kept year after year anticipating the moment when your belly would be full of baby to fill it out. The path here took longer than expected, but I can't thank you enough for planting that seed of hope. At times, that seed was my rock. Thank you naive, and innocent me. Wearing this shirt was a triumphant day for us! Yes, it was!"

PS: The bananas are for a project my husband and I are working on. This was the only picture I could find that showed the front of the shirt.