37 weeks

Only a few weeks left to go in this pregnancy! I'm past the 37 weeks mark, and can't believe how fast it's gone. This is going to be a long post...it's been awhile, and I'm not even going to get to the non-pregnancy updates! So if you're not interested in lots of details about pregnancy, feel free to skip this post!

I feel more relaxed about this pregnancy (not that there hasn't been stress, and lots of life change, DURING the pregnancy!) than I did with Rowan, which I'm sure is no surprise to second-time moms. I haven't been as eager to read all the pregnancy and childbirth "how-to" books...not because I think I'm an expert or think I will just remember everything (after all, it was almost 4 years ago that Rowan was born!), but because I learned with the first one that all the preparation in the world cannot really prepare you for childbirth and parenting. There are so many ways that the story can unfold, no sense in getting all tied up to one hope or vision of what will be. Maybe that sentiment comes from a rough birth experience with Rowan (3 hours of pushing a posterior baby that never turned...just came out sunny-side-up!)...and not having it measure up to what my carefully thought-out birth plan outlined. I wish that I had been better at going with the flow...and not struggled for even one second with feelings of regret over what kind of birth I had.

Giving birth should not be associated with regret or guilt. Any woman that carries and then delivers a baby...no matter how she does it, via c-section, drug assisted or not, should not feel regret about that awesome feat.


So anyways, I've been more focused on the emotional/spiritual part of this pregnancy. It's surprised me during this advent season how meaningful it is to be so pregnant as we await Christmas. That's what advent is about...the anticipation and waiting for Christ's birth. I feel in tune with Mary, find myself thinking about her traveling to Bethlehem on a donkey at 9 months pregnant, only to not find a room...and ultimately give birth in a barn! It's a story we've heard a million times, but really...can you fathom how awkward she must have been? Can you fathom how scary it must have been to be away from home, trying to "nest" in a stinky stable surrounded by animals? Rowan has this one children's book with the story of Jesus' birth...the text is just the King James Version of the story, but the pictures paint it in a new light. One of my favorite pages is a sequence of Joseph trying (struggling) to get a big-bellied Mary hoisted onto the donkey, not successfully at first, both of them exhausted. I love those images.

The incarnation is a mystery we celebrate every year at Christmas. Being in my last month of pregnancy during the holiday season this year, feeling this baby's daily growth and kicks and stretching for room, wondering if my skin can stretch any tighter over the expanse of my uterus, catching glimpses of myself in the mirror and marvelling at the beauty of my new rounded form, dreaming every day about what this child will look like, what it will feel like at my breast....I have continually thought of Christ growing in Mary, of her pregnancy, of the wonder and holiness of it, that God grew in a woman's womb.

My hand constantly gravitates towards my belly, when I feel a kick or in hopes of feeling one, trying to guess at body parts, wanting to be as close to this child as I can. I love the feeling of life growing inside of me, can't get enough of it. I think of Mary, touching her belly, wondering what it will be like to be the mother of God. I think of Mary, putting her hands over her abdomen, feeling our future tumble inside of her.


One of my favorite poets is Luci Shaw, and she has this gorgeous poem about Mary and Jesus' birth...I've re-read it many times these last weeks. It's called "Mary's Song":

Blue homespun and the bend of my breast
keep warm this small hot naked star
fallen to my arms. (Rest …
you who have had so far to come.)
Now nearness satisfies
the body of God sweetly. Quiet he lies
whose vigor hurled a universe. He sleeps
whose eyelids have not closed before.
His breath (so slight it seems
no breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps
to sprout a world. Charmed by doves' voices,
the whisper of straw, he dreams,
hearing no music from his other spheres.
Breath, mouth, ears, eyes
he is curtailed who overflowed all skies,
all years. Older than eternity, now he
is new. Now native to earth as I am, nailed
to my poor planet, caught
that I might be free, blind in my womb
to know my darkness ended,
brought to this birth for me to be new-born,
and for him to see me mended
I must see him torn.

My parents gave me a beautiful book during this pregnancy called "Great With Child" by Debra Reinstra. It's a personal account of her 3rd pregnancy, through the eyes of faith, and it's in line with Annie Lamott or Barbara Kingsolver for it's brutal honesty, humor, and feeling that you want to be friends with this person. Debra is actually an English professor at Calvin....I had her for a few classes, so that made it even more fun to read this book. I devoured it, really, because it was what I've been craving....not a book with endless warnings about what could or could not happen during pregnancy, labor, and delivery...but a book about what pregnancy, labor, and mothering look like fleshed out in a person's heart and soul. I recommend this book to anyone who is pregnant!

Then I just finished another book that Gail Heffner (a blog post is forthcoming about the Heffners...we have been staying at their house the last few months) lent to me called "Motherhood and God" by Margaret Hebblethwaite. She is Catholic, so that's been a bit of a different perspective, but it's along the same lines as Reinstra's book....rich in detail and candor about the nitty-gritty of pregnancy and motherhood as it intersects spirituality.

There is one passage from Hebblethwaite's book that I particularly like, especially since Rowan and I have had conversations lately about heaven, eternity, having new bodies (she's not totally keen on that idea, either), and resurrection:

"Paul writes 'the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable nature must put on the imperishable, and this mortal nature must put on immortality (1 cor. 15:52-53)'. Often in the past I have felt uncomfortable with this idea of a new body that is ours, yet different: in so far as it is different it has seemed not truly a body, and not truly mine, and yet it could not be the same as now if it belonged to eternity.

Perhaps it can be understood a little through the parallel with pregnancy: though we cannot imagine it in advance, perhaps when it happens it will have the same feel of rightness and fulfilment, as though the whole development of our earthly bodies has been a sort of puberty preparing us for the moment when in a truly physical way we shall move into a new phase. We shall find our bodies able to do things we never thought they could, a little bit like the way in pregnancy the whole metabolism switches into a new gear, works bigger and better than ever, nourishing and feeding not one but two bodies, or like the way we find our tummies can stretch to an extent we would never have believed possible has we not seen it in others, or like the way our bodies can open up and give birth to the fully grown baby--how could we have imagined that there would be room for a whole baby to come out in one piece if we had not the experience of others to go on? Maybe our new risen bodies will have that feel of unexpectedly fulfilled physicality, so that when we materialize and dematerialize (as the risen Christ did) we will feel not less ourselves, but more then ever ourselves."

My mom gave me a card the other day that had a drawing of a pregnant woman on the front...and it says "I never thought of myself as particularly perfect....until now."

I feel that way as I head into these last weeks of pregnancy.

My friend Jill Herweyer took all of these photos a few days ago...at exactly 37 weeks pregnant. Jill has ben taking more and more photos, and I've admired her keen photographic eye. So I asked her if I could set up my backdrop and lights, if she would lend me her good eye and take some photos. I think they turned out great...and you can see a bunch more on Flickr if you click here.