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It’s such a crazy sort of magic to be pregnant. To have that spark of life happen deep inside that no one can explain or duplicate. To feel and see your body doing amazing things to make a home for a tiny little foreign life and support it as it grows with incredible complexity and speed. To have a completely separate and utterly unique human being sharing space inside your own body. A little tenant that just appears, suddenly and out of nothing. All warm and snuggled in, his or her little heartbeat thumping alongside your own, but with its own rhythm. I mean it’s really insane when you think about it. Insane and wonderful.

While I always imagined myself with 3 or maybe 4 kids, this is the last baby for us (a decision we made for several different reasons) and I’m okay with that. Two is good! But sitting here now, more than halfway through my 38th week and solidly in the “more than ready to meet my new little miracle” stage, I am also desperately wanting to hold on to what the unique experience of pregnancy has really felt like.

Excitement, anxiety, fear, anticipation, curiosity, love.

Fatigue, nausea, and a bump!

And movement.

Body doing crazy things.

So much attention, from everyone.

Stressful tests, false alarms. A bigger bump!

More tests.

You’re healthy, whew.

Feeling huge and clumsy and totally beautiful.

Mind always racing, about what’s to come, mostly.

What do you look like?

So. Much. Googling.

And planning. And wishing for sleep.

Bump so big.

So ready to meet you…

The day is here!

Surgery, yikes.

And then,

you.

Through the nausea and fatigue, the aches and pains, all the stress about weight and health and body changes, I am so grateful that God made me a woman and now a mother, and gave me these pregnancies as a part of my life.  I hope I never forget the experience and privilege of supporting two overwhelmingly wonderful human beings from their very first sparks of existence on this earth.

Goodbye, pregnancy. It’s been an amazing ride. I’ll never be the same.

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