Bump.

I'm so far behind with blogging that I may as well just jump right in rather than trying for a full retrospective.

So, in the spirit of 'now,' with my belly blooming at 32 weeks, I offer a few thoughts on nearing the home stretch of pregnancy.

I really didn't think I'd like being pregnant. To be clear, it's not that I thought I'd hate it; I simply didn't expect how smitten I would be with the whole process. Perhaps that sentiment grew out of my long-standing insistence that I never wanted children. But, like my mom always told me, someday I might change my mind. And of course one day I did. Damn! I'm sure my kids will absolutely hate it when I'm right too. (Love you mom.)

So as the weeks begin to count down, rather than up, I'm a bit sad that this one chapter (of what will surely be a long and lovely tome, but still...) is coming to a close.

I'll miss 'baby' (prenatal) yoga with my other pregnant (though not anymore) girlfriends, the creative challenge of dressing a shape-shifting body, the weekly "your baby is as big as 'x' vegetable" e-mails, the daily volley of name possibilities with everyone I come in contact with.

But I think what I'll miss most is the movement. The fluttery, sometimes sudden, kicks and rolls that remind me I'm never alone--that make me marvel at the fact that 'holy cow, there's a human in there!' I mean, seriously, how brilliantly mind-blowing is it that my body can even do this!? I can barely run a 5k, can't make it to the top of the gym's climbing wall, have never been able to close the gap on the monkey bars, but I can grow a person, yo! I have no words for this.

Granted, there are a few things that I'm looking forward to once this belly recedes. Among them: 

1. Wearing belts. (Just wearing pants with belt loops, for that matter!)
2. Getting reacquainted with the other 90% of my shoe collection. (Evil edema.)
3. Eating soft cheeses with reckless abandon. Pasteurized or no. I'll take my chances.
4. Not whacking myself in the abdomen every time I try to close the car door. (What can I say, grace has never been my strong suit.)
5. Seeing what this kiddo looks like. Perhaps it goes without saying, but as we get closer to d-day, I'm increasingly curious. It feels quite strange to carry someone around all day-- to have their toes wedged in your ribs, to be intimately acquainted with their hiccup habits--and to have never seen their face (creepy ultrasound pics notwithstanding).