33 Weeks + Highline Park.

I think it's pretty certain that very shortly, I won't be able to wear this top anymore. It's not maternity, has zero stretch, & the belly - well, it clearly just keeps getting bigger. Oh well. I'll save my next wearing for the spring.

33 weeks means that Baby Boy is manifesting his humanness even more, which naturally means that my anxiety is going quickly up. The identification of parts (knees, elbows, feet, head) only makes it all the more tangible & real, yet also provides this daily reminder that he's not only getting bigger, but he will eventually need to make an exit. This makes me excited, because I'm just so excited to meet him. I am! What will he look like? How will my green eyes + Mike's cute freckles manifest in one little human? Will he have a Hudson nose? His dad's lips? Will he have my fire, or Mike's calm (Mike is worried about this)? Will he know me? It's just so interesting - & mind boggling - to think about. This little person.

This 33 weeks also makes me terrified, because DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT BIRTH?! I have an app on my phone that gives all sorts of great pregnancy information week-by-week including video of various things. I was browsing through week 40 last night when all of a sudden I was watching a birth of a REAL LIVE BABY. The last time I watched that - in my high school sex ed class senior year - I vowed that I would never do that!! I'm quite certain that it's never pretty & never incredibly comfortable - no matter how you go about it. My good + kind friends have reminded me that I'll most likely survive just as they did, but this only helps the teensiest, tiniest of bits. Because survival can mean so many different things. Hemorrhaging. Postpartum depression. Anxiety. Failure. Exhaustion.

I'm sort of a know-it-all, too. I can admit that. I like knowing about things. How to do things. Where to find things, etc. I am officially not a know-it-all about what to do with a brand new little baby. I'm good with babies. I have lots & lots of friends who have babies, so I have good exposure. But handing a crying child back to their mother is much different than the constant care of a child of your own for whom you are responsible, I'd imagine. That being said, I'm overwhelmed with baby lotion options, different kinds of binkies, how I can make my child sleep & what to do when my nipples feel like they're going to fall off from breastfeeding. I'm currently plotting a google survey that I'll be sending to all of my mama friends very shortly to help with this problem.

(Thank you in advance for your cooperation.)

Essentially, everything will be new. And change is always an interesting process, & uncertainty + the unknown is always just a little bit scary.

Baby Boy kicked me so hard in the ribs the other day that I yelled. And then I almost burst into tears, followed up by an immediate email to friend Erin asking her if I would suffer any consequences for unkind feelings towards my unborn child. The next morning, Mike did what was really the very perfect thing & presented me with a cute card (he's good at cards) & a certificate for a maternity massage next week at a really lovely spa overlooking Central Park, scheduled just after my doctor's appointment (that happens to be just a block away). I love him.

I told Mike that I'm going to miss being pregnant when this is all over. Not because it's been perfect (it hasn't). One of my seminary students - a sassy senior - came up to me at church yesterday & asked how I was doing, while rubbing my belly & making all sorts of ahhh!!! noises as she's generally does with me during this pregnancy. And then she said, Be honest though. It totally sucks sometimes, doesn't it? Well yes, actually. It does. Especially those first 20 weeks when I thought I'd never feel human again, especially the nights I can't sleep in any position, especially when I pee twice before leaving my apartment & can't make it to the end of the block without having to pee again, especially when I have to have Mike buckle my favorite brown sandals because I just can't bend that way any more, especially when Baby Boy feels like he's grinding into my ribs, & especially when I look in the mirror & sometimes see the silliest, most gigantic looking body staring back at me (while wondering if it will ever, ever go back to normal). But - this state of being special. I really love it. Is that so vain? My cold + impersonal New Yorkers make eye contact & smile at me after seeing my belly, or even talk to me (because everyone was a baby, has a baby, or knows someone who has a baby). People give me their seat on the subway. The man that walked past Mike & I on Saturday night said, You two look beautiful! God bless you & your new baby! I love that. I relish in it. It all makes me so happy.

We've got September & August to enjoy being us until our world gets a little bit turned upside down (although it doesn't end, I know). That means that despite having a huge amount of work to do on Saturday, Mike insisted on getting out & exploring the city with me. It means that we are brainstorming all of the places we'd love to eat before it gets harder (& more expensive) to do so. It means that we are plotting weekend trips, figuring out how to use Mike's vacation time + paternity leave, & being more dedicated to reading all of our how to books that will likely not make a bit of difference in the end. It also means that we're appreciating each other just a little bit more.

I think that August is going to be a really great month. And September in New York? It's always my favorite. This year might even be the very best.