Last week was my due date. April fourteenth. It's strange that so much time has passed since then. It's strange to think there might have been a BABY here, a little week old newborn with bowed legs and wispy hair. That in this parallel universe of fate, I would currently be exhausted, having been up all night nursing. Well, nursing, of course, but also, still staring in sudden bouts of wonder at the baby who used to be INSIDE of me and is now here in my arms. Oh the miraculous impossibility of that, especially at two in the morning!
To be honest, the reality that tiny babies grow into kids still shocks me at least weekly. I'll be holding one of them (or, more accurately this morning, being accidentally punched in the face by one of them while another steals my breakfast) and I will be struck with the fact that these giant, rowdy toddlers used to be two pound fetuses squirming around beneath my ribs.
I think in the end I am not heartbroken that there is no baby just yet. I am really enjoying these nights when my sleep is unbroken (still not every night, but I'll take what I can get.) I am making a conscious effort to enjoy being in full possession of my own body: drinking as much coffee as I want, wearing clothes that fit properly, exercising as hard as I want (ehm, haven't taken advantage of that one TOO often,) putting Kahlua in my coffee, taking Advil when I have a headache instead of the useless but pregnancy-approved Tylenol.
I am also pretty happy that Eli isn't having to deal with having a baby around right now. More selfishly, I am happy that I am not having to deal with Eli dealing with having a baby around! What we're hoping for now is an end of February-ish due date, so he'll be at least two and a half before he becomes the middle child. I can't even imagine the extent of his fury when the time comes for his demotion from Official Lap Baby status. He's a cuddler, that one. He'll still lay cradled in your arms like an infant when he's sleepy, sucking his thumb drowsily. In fact, perhaps he'll always be a lap baby. Kind of like Fonzie thinks he's a lap dog even though he's pushing eighty pounds.
*TMI Public Service Announcement: For those of you quick with the math, you may have realized that an end of February due date means that we are taking another month "off." For one thing, I have been screwing around with my hormones- first Clomid, then Prometrium, then the pill- for two months now. I'm not coping with it too fantastically. So a month of nothing in my system seems like a wise idea. Also, our anniversary is coming up, May fifteenth, and we're hoping to go back to Jamaica for a few days to relive our honeymoon. (That is assuming our passports come in a timely fashion- we applied for them on April fifteenth, and the current waiting time is four weeks. Whee! It's travel roulette!) So, you know, I'd rather not be in the first weeks of pregnancy on a trip that's supposed to be all about excessive sun exposure and adult beverages with little umbrellas in them. Sorry to those of you anxious for pregnant whining from me- as opposed to my usual, generic whining- but you'll have to wait another month. On the upside: possible pictures of me in a bikini!
Bwah hahahaha! No. But maybe a modest skirted number. If you ask nicely.