|From 5 Minutes for Parenting|
I’m halfway there.
No. Sorry. Let me rephrase.
I’M HALFWAY THERE! WOO-HOO!
Twenty weeks (almost 21) is a milestone for most of us preggos. We are amazed we’ve made it this far, and simultaneously freaked out that we only have 20 weeks (or less) to go. “Do I have diapers? Do I need to register? Have I cleaned my fridge lately? Are my spices alphabetized? How will I get it all done?!?”
This is also the time when the minor aches and pains of late-stage pregnancy start to enter the picture.
(I mostly said that to keep up the illusion for the first-timers. If you’re pregnant with number two or beyond, late-term woes probably kicked in around week 13. It’s part of the pregnancy game. After your first trip around the board, there’s no passing go, no more collecting $200. Instead, you turn the corner from the first trimester and go straight to Heartburn Jail.)
A collection of these physical symptoms might include:
- The inability to lie on your back without feeling like an elephant is sitting on your abdomen. It happens when your enlarged uterus presses on the largest vein taking blood from your legs back to your heart, which can leave you feeling lightheaded, dizzy and nauseous.
- The inability to get out of bed in the morning without groaning and rolling around like a pig in mud. It’s sexy, no?
- Consistent if not constant heartburn. At least Tums have calcium.
- An aching back, due to the utter disappearance of your abdominal muscles.
Or if you’re lucky, you get E. All of the above.
Still, 20 weeks is also a magical time. For 90% of women, morning sickness is gone. Our hair is thick and our skin is radiant. We’re showing. (“Hey world! Check me out! I’m growing a human!”) And best of all, that little baby in there is moving and flipping and doing all it can to remind us of its presence.
I read a book last week that painted such a beautiful picture of conception – of the dance between cells and the holy mystery when they merge to form a new life. That new life is woven and spun in joyous darkness; only the One who is forming it can see its spark. And the this and the that slowly becomes a baby, a person, someone with a soul and a purpose and a heart to be loved.
Then they kick. And we, their mothers, feel the thrill of new, but still hidden, life.
I almost feel sorry for men, that they never get to wear a miracle.
Kelly blogs at Love Well. She’s expecting her fourth baby – a boy – in May.