Full-term seems like a big deal. No, full-term IS a big deal. 37 weeks. Mango made it through the weeds and into the home stretch. We both feel it. I’m squished, uncomfortable, and gaining excitement day by day; Mango is squished, (un)comfortable(?), and gaining ounces day by day. We’ve made a good team over the past nine months, and I feel more and more confident as the days creep by that we will continue to make a good team when we finally meet face to face.
It’s crazy to me how close the end/beginning really is. Each day goes by and I’m shocked at how close March 31st feels. I attend meetings at work; we talk about tasks to be completed by next week; I wonder will I be here next week? Or will I be snuggling Mango? Who knows.
Such thoughts require me to focus on the present – require me to be present – and I like it. Of course I am overwhelmed and anxious for what life with Mango will be, but I’m also ready to find out what that life will be. Ready to see Chris and Mango together. Ready to watch my most favorite man fall in love with my most favorite tiny little person. Ready for them to team up against Mom because I know that will become a favorite hobby. Ready.
Along with that readiness comes the unease of course of how it all happens, what that day or days looks like, how we handle it, what ridiculous tasks we come up with to entertain ourselves when we know we can’t go to the hospital just yet. I’m hoping for a walk or two outside, a silly errand, maybe even a game of Scrabble. Please don’t burst my bubble if those are naïve thoughts. I would also find it entirely fitting if we haven’t bought our birthday champagne yet (it WILL be in the hospital bag) and have to go to the package store down the way on one of our walks. I just hope they don’t card me.
How can you card this?
I’ve also been reflecting a lot recently on the past months…finding out about Mango, telling our families, growing out of my pants, feeling Mango kick, watching Chris first feel Mango kick, experiencing what it feels like to have my belly swell from toned to a basketball of baby. It’s a lot to grasp and a lot to understand, especially because for the longest time it didn’t really feel real or like there would ever be an end. And now here we are, with the end in sight and the constant thoughts of what day will it be, how will it play out, who is Mango? That’s the biggest one: who is Mango? This tiny little being that I know so intimately yet have never met. The fingers that I cannot wait to feel wrapped around my own, the snuggle that I cannot wait to experience.
Who are you, Mango? And how will I ever call you by a name other than Mango?
We shall find out soon.