Full term and the stakes are getting higher. Happy Thanksgiving!

Good Morning, Beloved Boy!

It's barely past 5am and it's warm, dark, and silent all around me. I love this time. It's when I'm able to be most connected to you. It's also Thanksgiving Day. Gratitude overwhelms me as I lie here. I am so very grateful for so many blessings, and in this moment I am so deeply aware that I am especially grateful for you.

You will be here really soon one way or another, and we are ready! There's nothing left that you really need. Items have been installed, assembled, and organized. Your dad and I marvel at your size and health. Your brother touches my belly and talks to you, fully confident that you can hear and understand him. You have a whole family of love awaiting you. And on that note, it's time for you to come out to meet us.

We had a rough appointment at the doctor a couple of days ago. After preparing myself cognitively and emotionally to schedule a c-section and looking at calendars, attempting to schedule around many factors, I was told that the placenta has moved to a safe distance from the cervix and that, what's more, your head circumference is in the 50th percentile. Your total weight is estimated to be in the 94th percentile but that weight is in your belly and legs, which sounds easier to me to deliver than a giant head like that which put an end to your brother's vaginal birth. It appears to me that you have an excellent chance of shimmying safely down the birth canal into the world, which is the birth I'd wanted for us both. 

Our doctor, who has been rather kind and supportive throughout this blessedly healthy and easy (though uncomfortable) pregnancy, appears to have lost his gentleness, kindness, and respect for my right to decide what's right for my body and for you, and has, quite frankly, pissed me off. (I apologize for that language, but I don't intend for you to read this until you're an adult and are probably accustomed to that expression). After the very encouraging ultrasound, the doctor walked into the room talking so fast he sounded manic, and tried HARD to strong arm me into scheduling a c-section. And he would really like to schedule it on the Tuesday before my due date (a date I'm not comfortable with for personal reasons).

Here's the deal... I am not dumb and I'm not crazy. If a c-section is required to get you here safe and healthy, I will march joyfully into the operating room and present my torso for slicing. But I am also not an object, and neither are you, and I am *extremely* opposed to being railroaded into making decisions for my body and my baby without adequate time to ponder them. He wanted me to go from the ultrasound in which I learned all this information that pointed to the possibility of having a vaginal birth, to signing away my right to that vaginal birth in under 45 minutes. I don't even decide what I'm going to have for lunch in under 45 minutes these days. (Hospital policies, he doesn't want to repeat history, and a ski trip were all mentioned in his logic for the expectation that I conform to the surgical recommendation... Again, he's usually great. He has just lost his mind. I hope temporarily).

At the time, I managed to refuse to decide anything and I emphasized that if we schedule a C-Section it will not be on 12/16. And that was about all I could handle during that appointment. Since then, I've kicked things up. I have scheduled acupuncture and chiropractic appointments and arranged for your dad to use his massage therapist magic tricks daily to do things to my feet that will, purportedly and hopefully, induce labor. There are other things one does to naturally induce labor but since I would like to preserve a mother-son boundary, I won't detail those here. If you need such information to bring your own child into the world someday, consult the internet. It won't be hard to find.

So here's where we stand. It's Thanksgiving and I am over the moon with gratitude for you! I know the time is running out for me to feel your rolls and stretches and well aimed liver kicks. Thank-you for being you and thanks to God for sending you to join our family! And also, with all of my heart, I adore you, but you simply have to leave my body. Leave my body while you are small enough for me to deliver without tremendous drama or having to fight off a cavalcade of a%^*}%#s who are similarly prone to bullying when they get anxious. Trust that the life into which we are calling you is good. Trust that we will keep you safe. Your body will be warm; your belly will be full; and your days will be filled with exploring a world that welcomes you and the plan God has for you.

Pack up, sweet beloved. Your home and your family are ready. And with only a day or two's margin of error, so are you.

33 weeks, 3 days...

Dear Matthew,

I'm blown away by how little time is left until we meet you. Six weeks, four days until you're due; five weeks, four days until you're likely to arrive. Calling us ready at this point would overstate it; but we aren't that far off. My nesting to do list is really all that's left, and getting your car seat. In the last couple of days I've had a bit more energy, which I've really needed. I have some of the usual pregnancy complaints, but I'm really feeling okay. I do complain a lot. Your dad has been incredibly sweet about it, though. He just pets my belly and tells me how excited he is that I'm incubating you :-). 

I'm continuing to enjoy  getting to know you through your rolling, pokes, kicks, and dancing. You're still more active than your brother was by this point. Your dad's mom says that's how your dad was in utero. Always, always moving! I don't know how I was in utero, but that's how I usually am now (when I'm not pregnant). 

I try to also be still and be present with you, to get to know you through emotional and spiritual connection. It is impossible, of course, to know how much of what I sense is accurate and how much my brain interferes, but I sense a warrior's spirit in you. I sense in you tremendous enthusiasm and energy, as well as resilience, passion, and courage. I feel your strong-will and big heart. I could be wrong, but that's what I'm getting when I meditate and am most able to be really still.

Whether I'm describing you accurately or not is not important. What matters is that we are connecting as well as we can for now and that you will be here soon. I'm ready for you. We all are. We can't wait to meet you, beloved boy!