Here we are…twenty-four weeks pregnant, and we’ve finally taken the first belly shot. What happened? With my first two pregnancies we took several pictures. We had to with Catie–the whole pregnancy process was so mind-boggling. The was a tiny person growing right next to my liver and kidneys and stomach and bladder (probably not exactly there, but still. Crazy enough a wiggling human was sharing that general real estate.) And plenty of exterior evidence to prove it. Every week the person-shaped lump got rounder and bigger. We needed photographic evidence.
And the twins. Wow. Like I said before–everything about that pregnancy was extra ordinary. My size, first of all. My build is such that if I drink a smoothie, I look three months pregnant. In other words, long legs, small hips, and short torso. Anything extra goes straight out. Two fully-formed humans? Holy bump. My middle looked like a shelf that could’ve carried a stack of books. If I had been able to carry anything with those two fully-formed humans pressing on my lungs.
But this pregnancy is so different. In some ways (like the fact we’ve only now taken a belly shot) it’s the laid-back, “oh, I forgot I’m pregnant” pregnancy.” Actually, that’s how it is most of the time. With the others, I read all the books (“our baby is growing toenails this week!”), daydreamed constantly about the baby (or babies), and measured time by how many weeks along I was.
But there’s also more fanfare for this pregnancy than any of the others. After all, this little boy has three siblings praying and plotting for it every day. The other babies felt like steps in completing our family, he will be the completion.
And although we may have spent countless hours marveling at this miracle of my changing body with my other pregnancies, we’re wiser now. The miracles really start coming after it’s born.
Most importantly, this time it’s less about the pregnancy, and more about the means to an end.
Only sixteen weeks until we meet the last little member of our family.
