Like, getting way better.

It’s hard to believe that just three weeks ago I was in so much pain that I couldn’t walk or really, MOVE. Thanks to physical therapy, I’m feeling like a typical pregnant lady.

I love that.

So, yes. We are in the home stretch and I’m starting to panic a little bit. I’m not panicked about her arrival. I can’t wait. I can’t wait for those baby squeaks and seedy diapers, the middle of the night feedings, the nursing struggles, the shared time with the siblings, the balancing act that will have to occur between her and three other children and recovering from a c-section.

I’m ready for that. And I’m going to cherish it, too. I may have tears running down my face and be frustrated and want to quit but deep down in my heart I’ll know that this is it for this chapter. This baby-ness, this new-ness and it will go by so quickly, so I want it to come and rest on our family and let us carry it the way that we do.

I’m not so much ready for this pregnancy to end. As difficult as these past few weeks have been. Another mild concern (???) is that we, uh, she, keeps failing her NSTs. I have weekly NSTs due to my high blood pressure and my history with James and Jake.  (by the way, my blood pressure has been STELLAR, I’m on half of the meds I was on with Eli and my blood pressure has remained perfect, although, it’s slowly creeping up, it’s still … STELLAR.)

So, each week, I waddle through the hospital parking garage, cross the street, climb the stairs and walk through endless hallways to reach Labor and Delivery. Every time people wish me “good luck,” thinking I’m about to deliver, some people make comments about my hugeness. Yesterday, as I was leaving Labor and Delivery, a doctor was heading in my direction and he jokingly said “uhhh, I think you are heading in the wrong direction.” I laughed because it’s true. I’m large. (but I love it.)

(I only get angry at people’s comments when they insist that I must be wrong about a.) the number of babies residing in my belly or b.) that my due date is incorrect. Those are the people that are risking their lives just by continuing to speak to me.)

(sometimes, I dream of having a spray bottle filled with water and when they won’t stop talking about my size, I can just start spraying them, like you do with cats that won’t stop climbing your screens.)

Anyway. The baby’s heart, well, it just won’t accelerate the way they like. Her heart rate is great but after movement they like to see the heart react, like it would, if say, you climbed a bunch of stairs, your heart rate increases and then it eventually slows. Well, hers is just sorta anti-climatic. It has been since Week 28, when I began my NSTs. But back then, because she was younger, they weren’t all that worried but now that she’s older they have to take measures to make sure she’s okay.

So, after each failed NST, I have to go down to ultrasound and have a Biophysical Profile done. So far, she’s passed every single one. Although, each time, she barely passes.

What can I say? She’s easy going. She takes after her father. When he’s super angry or just finished running three miles, his heart rate is 45. Resting it’s 8.

Or something like that.

So, she’s calm and maybe that means she’ll be calm when she’s born or maybe she’s saving all of her energy to share with us. Who knows?

Back to the panicking. I’m beginning to panic about work and being too far behind and still having a few sessions left. I’m worried about the state of the baby’s room (not that it matters but if I can’t finish it now, there’s no way I’ll finish it with a newborn.)

Anna and Noah’s room is soooo close to being finished. Like, I think I could finish it today, if I put my mind to it. (or if my body allowed me to do it.)

All this to say that something tells me that it will all fall into place. Brian has been amazing, doing everything around the house, including childcare and these added projects like painting and installing shelves and carrying everything heavy and awkward. (he’s also very good at making Pop Tarts.)

My parents have been so dreamy. They came over to help paint on Saturday and when I mentioned painting the bathroom, when they were almost finished with the nursery, they grabbed the tape and started painting the bathroom and now that looming project is done. (oh and they brought dinner over for us, when they came over to paint.) (oh and my Mom is also very good at making Pop Tarts.)

Brian’s parents have brought meals and watched Eli and watched the kids and honestly, we just can’t get over how lucky we are to have our parents nearby. But also to have parents so willing to help when we really, really need it.

(by the way, I still can’t carry Eli, I’m really hoping this changes soon.)

I guess that’s it. There’s my update for you guys. I can’t wait to share the nursery with you and Anna and Noah’s new shared room and of course, pictures of this little girl. I love that you’re here for me to share these things with, you make me feel even more grateful for all of the great things in my life.

So, thank you.

As I sit on my couch, drinking coffee, baby girl has the hiccups.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. And now she’s wiggling her legs, like she’s showing me what she can do.

It’s a little how Eli will play a game of peek-a-boo, completely unprompted. I’ll see him with his head into the couch and realize he’s been doing that for about thirty seconds. It takes me a second to realize he’s playing…

“Eli!!!!” I say, in a sing-song voice.

His head pops up and he laughs so hard.

or sorta how Noah, right now, is playing Wii and he keeps talking to me about his endeavors and asking me who I think is going to win, he narrates and celebrates. He really does think I’m very aware of the game he’s playing. But I’m not but he’s involving me and I like that.

or how Anna will do her own hair and not show anybody, especially her brother or Dad but she’ll sneakily come up to me and show me and I’ll rave and rave about how good she is at coming up with cute hairstyles and she smiles and giggles and removes the walls she’s built and walks taller and prouder and when Dad says “Anna, you look so cute!” She says “thank you!” and buries her head into his chest. (carefully, so she doesn’t mess up her hair.)

or how even Brian will come up to me and tell me that he finished my laundry and his and he’s going to go into the baby’s room and begin clearing it out so we can paint it TODAY because she’ll be here a month from TODAY and my mind is so stressed and my heart is a little sad at how little I can do to help prepare for her arrival and he knows this.

So, he comes up to me and tells me in his soft voice that he’s taken care of these things “so rest your head, pretty Mama.”

I have these people in my home and in my belly who share with me their silliness and their challenges and their triumphs and I’m in the middle feeling important even though I feel like I’m contributing so little to them right now.

But they’ve reassured me and I remember how important my role is, and this makes me happy today. This makes me proud.