Week 32: Matters of the heart

I was having dinner with my best friend Stefanie on Tuesday night at LaFonda—one of our favorite restaurants to sit outside. I was telling her about some of my money concerns. You know, I’m in debt; I pay out more than I make and can’t get ahead—pretty much voicing the reality of 50 percent of other Americans today. (Don’t quote me on that stat.) I was explaining to her that this is particularly scary to me now that I am expecting because every financial decision I make—or any other decision in general—now impacts someone besides myself. But I also told her that the funny thing was, that for maybe the first time in my life, I have such clarity and such a calmness that I didn’t know I would feel.
Even though I don’t have the money I’d like or the extra time or the finer things, I feel OK in knowing I’ll figure it out. I told her that since I’ve been pregnant, every hardship or worry of this world kind of seems trivial in comparison to the complete joy I feel. Everything feels “right,” and there doesn’t seem to be much to complain over since I’m going to be a mommy soon! This week, I’ve just been feeling really full—my belly, my thoughts and mostly my heart.
This past weekend, Darrin’s mom and little sister came to stay with us. They brought us a big container of pink onesies with lady bugs and flowers, a beautiful blue and yellow crocheted blanket and a bear that mocks the heartbeat sound similar to mommy’s in the womb to soothe baby at night. His mom knows I have been struggling to find maternity clothes and insisted on getting me some things to wear to work. We went shopping, and I was shy to look. After she left, she emailed me to tell me my “budget” and that there would be no arguments. When I told her that I didn’t want her to buy me anything, she insisted by writing, “I hope you understand that my wanting to do something for you is just my way of saying I love you and that you are my daughter.” As I read the sentence over and over, my heart nearly burst and off went the waterworks. When she called me her daughter, I realized family transcends bloodlines. And with my new baby, I receive a new family, too.
This week, I opened an email from P&N: “What to Expect in Your Third Trimester” and read an article by Amanda McKinley on the third installment—or trimester—of my ever changing body, inside and out. It was spot on. It told of the waddle, the constipation and even the pushing sensation in my ribcage. It gave helpful hints on how to rid the pesky heartburn I now experience every time I eat. Small, frequent meals—got it, Amanda!
No matter how uncomfortable I may feel at times, I’m not quite at the stage where I want her out of my belly. I know I won’t always feel that way, and there will be a time when I’m ready for her to join us out here. For now, however, I would take any discomfort or swollen, sleepless nights to know she’s safe and sleeping to the sound of my own heartbeat.
In my 32nd week, everything is wonderful in its imperfection. And I’ll take it—heartburn and all.