Tuesday, March 1, 2011

The Waiting Game

Baby Boy,

It’s March. The month you’re expected to enter the world. Turning the calendar was so exciting, frightening, and hopeful. All at the same time.

“Only a few more weeks,” I squealed to daddy. “We’re going to meet our little boy this month!”

But as the great John Lennon once said (and how poignant that this line comes from his song, Beautiful Boy), “Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.”

I went to the doctor and he said you appear to be in no hurry to make an appearance — that you look much more like an April baby than a March baby. I have suspected this, considering you enjoy using my ribs as monkey bars, and my stomach has settled into its second home somewhere between my heart and collar bone. I hope you know that you can’t head north to make your escape, but some days that’s exactly what it feels like you’re attempting.

Each morning I wake up and stretch a little before crawling out of bed, anxiously waiting to feel that you have “dropped.” All of my books say this should happen sometime soon. The old rule of thumb is that lightening occurs with a first baby about four weeks prior to birth. But as of this morning … nada. And my heartburn is rivaling the Great Yellowstone Fire, which also lets me know you’re perfectly content for the near time being.

I know that a lot can happen in three weeks, though, and you very well could get this show on the road. But if you don’t, that’s OK. You’re welcome to stay in there as long as you feel like it (within reason). Although I’m beyond excited to see your face and hold you in my arms, I also get a little weepy when I think about our special time together coming to an end. I will miss feeling your kicks and wiggles, and having you with me at all times, knowing you’re safe and sound. But I know I have to share you. And your daddy is just about ready to explode waiting for you to show up. There’s a lot of love waiting for you, little one.

We’re ready when you are!