So the question I get a hundred times a day now, when people catch site of my enormous belly, is:  Are you ready?  They say it in a way that implies I should be more than ready.  That it should be such a relief to rid myself of this burden I am carrying around.  They tend to look at me weird when I say, “No, I am not ready”.  I think they take that answer to mean I am not looking forward to meeting you, but that could not be further from the truth.

This is the truth: ………………

I daydream all the time about what you will look like.  I can’t wait to see your face for the first time.  To count all your fingers and toes.   To actually hold you in my arms.  But I love having you inside of me.  This is the place that I have the least worries about your happiness, safety and well being.  I know that you are never hungry or crying.  There is never a wet, raw tushy to deal with.  You get all the sleep you need, regardless of how crazy our household is behaving.  I don’t worry, “are you sleeping too long?  Are you still breathing?”  Did you get enough to eat?  Do you have gas?

You are constantly moving around, poking me with a foot, leg, or elbow, reassuring me that you are okay.  I get to take you everywhere with me.  I don’t have to share you with anyone.  I get to  have you utterly and completely to myself (aside from the occasional belly rubber).

The beginning of mothering you is like this. … Complete involvement.  You are tucked up inside of me, and I am wrapped around you with all the love and protection that a mother can give.  The next step of pushing you out into the world, is the beginning of letting go.  That is what mothering becomes.   Incrementally letting go, and pushing you out into the world.   I am letting go of Hannah right now by watching her successfuly separate from me to go to preschool.  I am letting go of Noah by giving him the independence to navigate our neighborhood unsupervised with his friends.   And I will have to let go of you literally and hold my breath while you work to take your first breath.  It is wonderful to see your children take those steps of independence, one by one.  But it is also hard.  Letting go of the very beings you would do anything to protect.  Worrying about any harm or discomfort they might endure.  Having to step back and let them make mistakes in order to grow up.

Right now, is mother’s bliss.  Okay, so it is a little hard to walk up the stairs, roll over in bed, and even pee.  But that is nothing.  I would do that for the next 20 years if I could ensure that you would grow up safe, happy and ready to take on the world.

It just doesn’t work that way.  So for the next several days until I give birth (another incredible mothering experience, and another post), I will just savor this wonderful feeling of carrying you around inside of me.   There is no rush.  You and G-d just keep putting on the finishing touches and I will enjoy knowing that I can hold you safely and completely to myself.