I promised you some final prego pics. Here they are: 39 weeks, 1 day.
Sadly the camera blues are still hanging around this house. The longed-for battery arrived and turned out not to be the source of our camera's illness. I think that its country of origin has a monopoly on its ailments. I am tempted to dig out the 35mm in an effort to record any of this summer's events. Either that or Dave will finagle his parents out of their never-used camera, or I will bring the laptop with me to all future outings and ask people to pose in front of my screen. I think that the latter option might be both socially awkward and slightly grainy in its results. Despite our Kodak woes, I promise that I will post at least one more baby in-utero shot before baby makes his debut.
Said debut is coming ever nearer and I am both excited and a little sad. Although the end of a pregnancy is often physically exhausting and emotionally draining I always find myself not wanting it to end. I confess to enjoying the excitement of the wait and I tend to feel a little anti-climactic once the baby is born. I think that this last emotion is because once the little one leaves my womb he does just that: he leaves and keeps on leaving. It's sort of inevitable. With each passing day my children grow older, more mature and one step closer to not being my little children. And, I find that bitter sweet. I have always loved young children and felt most at home with the under-ten set. Consequently, the fleeting nature of childhood often leaves me reeling. All the more reason to be thankful that I can be with them day in and day out while they are so young and dependent.
On a more practical note, my mother should be here within a week. (The house breathes a collective sigh of relief; and Dave secretly smiles as he knows that his red-wine-at-every-supper partner is soon to arrive.) I am really hoping that I am still pregnant when she arrives so that I can have my own mother here for at least one labour and delivery. We'll see. My father is still canoeing through the wilds of Ontario so he should be around for the little one's arrival as well (hopefully he showers first:)).
Speaking of arrival, I have no progress whatsoever to report. However, the doors are on the new bedroom (although the beds and crib are in the wrong locations), the house is still clean, there are groceries in the fridge (not for long), and we lie in wait. I am still quite nauseous and I expended a good amount of prayer energy last night storming heaven with the details of my desired labour and delivery: Please, no nausea or throwing up!
I am also sitting extra long with little Joseph who will soon lose his baby status. How willingly, I am unsure.
Swimming lessons are finished for the summer and the nights are growing longer as the mornings grow cooler. How quickly the summer passes. We will treasure what remains even if we have to pencil-sketch our last outings to the beach.
Said debut is coming ever nearer and I am both excited and a little sad. Although the end of a pregnancy is often physically exhausting and emotionally draining I always find myself not wanting it to end. I confess to enjoying the excitement of the wait and I tend to feel a little anti-climactic once the baby is born. I think that this last emotion is because once the little one leaves my womb he does just that: he leaves and keeps on leaving. It's sort of inevitable. With each passing day my children grow older, more mature and one step closer to not being my little children. And, I find that bitter sweet. I have always loved young children and felt most at home with the under-ten set. Consequently, the fleeting nature of childhood often leaves me reeling. All the more reason to be thankful that I can be with them day in and day out while they are so young and dependent.
On a more practical note, my mother should be here within a week. (The house breathes a collective sigh of relief; and Dave secretly smiles as he knows that his red-wine-at-every-supper partner is soon to arrive.) I am really hoping that I am still pregnant when she arrives so that I can have my own mother here for at least one labour and delivery. We'll see. My father is still canoeing through the wilds of Ontario so he should be around for the little one's arrival as well (hopefully he showers first:)).
Speaking of arrival, I have no progress whatsoever to report. However, the doors are on the new bedroom (although the beds and crib are in the wrong locations), the house is still clean, there are groceries in the fridge (not for long), and we lie in wait. I am still quite nauseous and I expended a good amount of prayer energy last night storming heaven with the details of my desired labour and delivery: Please, no nausea or throwing up!
I am also sitting extra long with little Joseph who will soon lose his baby status. How willingly, I am unsure.
Swimming lessons are finished for the summer and the nights are growing longer as the mornings grow cooler. How quickly the summer passes. We will treasure what remains even if we have to pencil-sketch our last outings to the beach.
4 comments:
Wow, there was quite a bit of Debbie-Downer in this read. That long awaited for baby must be messing with you. You continue to amaze us everyday. I was just lamenting through our last 10 hour drive to 'Peg that as RJ starts school, he will be missed, mostly by S. but I think I will be the one secretly weeping in my office.
Happy Feast Day
I think you can take photos with your cell phone. Have you tried it? not that you could post it on here. but you can email them.
You're looking gorgeous! That baby can wait a little longer, because pregnancy looks so good on his mama.
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