thirty eight weeks — so specific and so vague.
a friend recently described the end of pregnancy as this strange limbo; you’re not your old self anymore but you’re also not your mom self yet. it’s physically, emotionally and mentally … wild. at the same time that I’m so. ready. to be done, there are parts of me that are going to miss my belly, the kicks, overthinking the nursery and what to pack for the hospital.
in thirty eight weeks I’ve been slowly (quickly?) creating a life and so much life has happened. being at the funeral of one best friend’s grandfather the same night as being in the hospital meeting another best friend’s baby put the fullness of life into crisp focus. I’ve been surrounded by joy, grief, loss, love, engagements, heartache, infertility, miscarriages, celebrations and pregnancies. I’ve said out loud multiple times, “has life always been this hard or am I just getting older?” my mom quickly said, “you’re just getting older.”
I might be wrong, but I think this is all preparation for holding the complexity of emotions that comes with motherhood. I’m not ready, but I’m ready…
I’m excited.
scared and anxious
and scared.
prepared
to be unprepared,
for what it feels like
to hold Will
and be his mom.
photos by Clar Barron.
