I had a very busy and wonderful weekend, which hopefully I’ll share in more detail later. But I’d like to take this moment to note that as of today, this pregnancy is full term. A baby born at 37 weeks is not considered premature. Blueberry’s lungs are ready. Everything is in place. He has hair and fingernails. He’s fully baked. I’m now allowed to start hoping that those contractions are actual real labor and not just uterine preparation. This is the beginning of the end of my pregnancies, at least as far as I plan.
I have gotten pregnant four times, miscarried twice, given birth once. I have spent a total of, um, 24 months (two years!) of my life pregnant. (I went 10 months pregnant with Grey, am 9 months pregnant right now, and miscarried at 3 months and 2 months.) Fertility and pregnancy have been a huge part of my reality for the last four years. And that focus and reality are coming to a close for me, and soon. For most of us in developed countries, the procreative period is a brief and intense one. Mine is almost over.
The funny thing is I don’t feel old enough to HAVE children, never mind old enough to be finished having children.
But mostly, my point is that I am full term. I can start cheering for an arrival now. You can start wondering anytime I don’t post quite as frequently as normal.
I would probably be more excited if it weren’t for a conversation I had with my mother yesterday. We were looking at 2 generations — my mother, my sister and I. We three have given birth to 6 children between us (my mother three, my sister two and so far me one). Of those six children, not a SINGLE ONE has arrived on or before their due date. I was probably the latest at a calculated three weeks late. My mom says that maybe my sister was the earliest, at a quasi-induced week post due. This little boy MIGHT be different, of course, and break the mold. But odds are that the women in my family just gestate a little longer than standard and I’ll still be sitting here waiting for another 4 weeks or so.
On the flip side, all 6 of those births were largely uneventful (ok, my sister might have some choice words to say about her childrens’ shoulders). We all managed to largely avoid induction. And none of us ended up needing a c-section. I think I’ll take the extra week or two in exchange for the excellent outcomes that seem to go with them.
Still, from now until 5 weeks from now. The week count-down increments by 1. We’re almost there.