But then there are those amazing times where I look down to see my belly moving in crazy ways with a little life inside of it. Where I feel a jab and meet it with my fingers, getting to hold his little foot for the seconds before he takes it away. Where I am walking through the city on a warm day, breeze blowing around me, birds chirping and sun aglow, and I know that I am more lucky than I will ever realize. And these moments are just so sweet and pure that I don't want this to end, for him to come into the world, for me not to feel him trying to expand his home well past its limits.
I am at a bittersweet point where things are winding down. The nursery is basically finished, the major items are in place and ready to go, classes have wrapped up, and now we wait. When I really think hard about the fact that I am about to have a child, a little blend of myself and the man I love, I can barely keep the tears from flowing. I remember all of the years I've imagined this moment and I just can not believe that it's here. I cry when I imagine the birth and seeing his beautiful face for the first time, but I also cry when I think of what I'm losing.
As an impatient person I typically want things to happen now. I moved cross country within two months of deciding that Austin was where I was meant to be, returned to school on a whim, and got married with just four months of engagement. So imagining nine months of being pregnant was tough to grasp at first. Yet I realized that once he is here I can't go back, and I've been trying to make the most of every day of life as I know it. Three more weeks is just a drop in a bucket. While I'm sure my future life will be richer than I can even begin to comprehend, I really love my life now as well. It is hard to imagine that one moment will change everything so irrevocably, for better or worse, and there is no going back. I love the idea of entering this new stage but hate letting go of what is.
So maybe this is why I haven't packed the bag. While Peyton keeps reminding me (understandably) that we need to get the hospital bag ready and waiting, I keep dragging my feet. Maybe it's simply that I'm a procrastinator and being lazy. Or that I haven't found the perfect nightgown to hold my baby in the first night. But I think deep down that it's a refusal to really accept what is about to happen, to open my arms and embrace the changes ahead. It's me trying to suck in the little bit of time left where Tegan is my only baby and I can shower whenever I desire. However excited I am to meet him, I am trusting my gut to enjoy these few precious days. And I'm glad I've fought the impatience and soaked in this year. I'm so happy to be able to say that I've experienced pregnancy yet sad to realize that my first time is almost done. But whether I like it or not, I'm almost there, and the bag must be packed.
LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE