5+ weeks left to go in this pregnancy.
That still feels like an eternity.
On the plus side, I've gained the least amount of weight in this pregnancy.
I carry Christian lower than I ever did the girls. This equals a little better breathing, a lot more pottying. He also sticks straight out of me more than they did.
Which means:
1) I think I look ridiculous.
2) My back has hurt this pregnancy, which is something new, because I feel like I'm trying to carry around a huge jousting stick that is just sticking out of my belly.
My mobility is decreasing dramatically, and there are days when I am completely laid up. Most days end with me in tears over the littlest movements and ice packs and Tylenol. Michael has to help me put my pajamas on every single night.
But I don't want to complain. First of all, because I love being pregnant. I love bringing new life into this world. And I wanted this. Also, because it's such a blessing I'm able to do this at all. Many women would gladly trade places with me. And because it really isn't all that bad. It could be so much worse.
I've run into a mom at the playground the last few times I've been who has a 3-year-old daughter and is expecting her second girl any day now. Sounds totally normal. Except that she is living out that Tom Hanks movie "The Terminal" in reality. She came to America from Egypt a month ago expecting to stay for a few days. Instead, her country hosted a revolt and overthrew their government. Suddenly, she is "without country" and unable to travel home. Her husband and mother are both back in Egypt waiting for her. Once it was cleared that she could in fact travel, it was too soon to her due date and she was told to stay in America until her baby is born. So now she is here, without family besides her 3-year-old daughter, waiting for her baby to be born so she can go home. She will have to deliver this baby alone. With the medical team on staff. While her 3-year-old waits with the one "friend" she has here. After the baby is born, she has to wait for her newest daughter's passport to be approved before she can fly back across the ocean to her war-torn country.
The last time we were there, her daughter and my daughter played together for about an hour. Her daughter can't speak English. They didn't seem to notice. As the mom pointed out to me, "Running has no language." I was incredibly touched by the innocence of children and their ability to overcome obstacles and barriers we adults don't even attempt to try.
I believe this is one of the reasons I love having kids so much. They help me to truly "become as a little child" and see what it is that Heavenly Father is talking about. To them, the world is simple and beautiful and uncomplicated. And "running" is a universal language in which they are all fluent.
I'm trying to be more like that.
