nathan and audrey

After thirty-eight weeks (and one day) of pregnancy, my term as a first-time preggo is quickly coming to a close. The idea of wearing non-maternity clothing is exhilarating, as is the notion that soon I won’t feel like a bloated whale who is unable to get out of bed without assistance. I will not miss the struggle to put on pants and shoes, nor will I miss the generous lather of lotion and body cream whose daily application is my primary defense against the ever evil stretch marks. I will certainly not miss the contractions, the leg cramps, the heartburn, the backaches, the constant need to pee, the inability to sleep for any significant duration of time, and a few other things that are too graphic to list. If you’ve never experienced the realities of pregnancy, you’ll just have to trust me when I say the unmentionable items are uncomfortable and/or inconvenient.

But in the midst of my complaining, Garbanzo will shift in my stomach, take a deep yawn and stretch, or maybe experience some hiccups, and I consider that while all of the preggo discomforts will be gone, I will miss the pleasure of feeling my son move. It is my very favorite part of being pregnant, and soon, that will be gone. I know that I will have a beautiful child to hold and cradle and love on, but it will be different to experience him in that way.

I console myself with one truth: I get the honor and privilege of helping my child grow into the man that God has made him to be. That road is sure to contain hardships, but it will also contain kisses, tickles, and a generous portion of love. Helping me is my sweet sweet husband who is already a fantastic father, and the three of us are going to be an amazing family. I feel as though my life is gearing up to start, and all of these years have merely been prep for the job I’m about to undertake—mommy. With that thought in mind, I can’t wait until he gets here!

—Photograph courtesy of Ashley Ewalt—

My glider has arrived. Five years ago, I never would’ve anticipated getting so excited over a piece of furniture, especially one so demure as a glider, but apparently motherhood has affected more than my body. This chair—it’s heaven. Covered in chocolate brown chenille and loaded up with two huge pillows, it makes my aching back say, “ahhhhhhh.” Better still, it fills the hole that’s sat in my living room for several months, the hole that yearned to contain a piece of furniture to better balance out the room. Until Baby has a proper nursery, the chair is relegated to the living room, and I’m scheming just how I’m going to keep people (namely Nathan, who’s decided that it’s now his studying chair, not the baby chair) from sitting in it. Right next to the window, it receives a yummy bath of delicious sunlight each day, that tempts me to ignore the housework, my writing responsibilities, and all social engagements to drop into its soft cushions and relax.

As for the mobile, I did go and check out my local fabric store. Lucky for me, I was able to locate the fabric we’re using for my crib bedding, and I bought a yard of both prints. The fabric didn’t set me back too much, and I’m grateful that I made the purchase—I’m able to color match the fabric up against other potential nursery décor, and since the blue we’re using is a very specific shade of pale turquoise, and the brown is a brighter chocolate than seems to run standard, it’s nice to be able to whip out my swatches and compare. And I was able to locate brown crib sheets that match perfectly! But back to the mobile. I’m leaning more and more towards hand-making one. While the one I found on Etsy was gorgeous, I’ve been looking at tutorials online and trying to see if I could find something. Blame it on years of literature courses if you’d like, but I read a lot of symbolism into everyday things. I’d like to think that my love will surround him always. What better way to denote this than make a mobile that hangs above his head? I think I’ve drawn up a design I like, and I hope to get started on it this week, but you’ll just have to wait and see.

In the meantime, I started some cross-stitch lettering for Baby’s name.

The birth announcements are, however, ready to roll. They require the exact details of baby’s birth (which I am not privy to, as that information is on a need-to-know-only basis, with Baby being the only one who needs to know) and a cute photo of my offspring, but once those two things are secured, they’ll be ready to send off to print! I’m quite excited about them. I spent two hours creating the format, carefully picking out the colors, and manipulating the fonts and their sizes until everything was perfect. And I think I’ll be able to get them printed and shipped for half of what other people were willing to do them for.

In the true spirit of an over-anxious mommy-to-be, I have been exercising. Sort-of regularly. Now, coming from the girl who considers physical exercise to be a lesser known form of torture established during the Spanish Inquisition, this has been tough. Nathan knows his role, and while he’s not allowed to guilt-trip me into exercising, he’s been permitted to remind me frequently of my schedule. Even then, I usually miss at least one scheduled exercise session a week. After this morning, I wonder if I’ll be missing more sessions in the future. Besides making me incredibly tired, I developed horrific cramps on both sides not even five minutes into the cardio segment of my pregnancy exercise video. The video was not new, nor was the workout. I’ve done that exact cardio segment, which is recommended for all three trimesters, since I found out I was pregnant. And today my body decided that it had had enough of the peppy exercise host harping on and on about how all I needed to do was “the best that I can,” and it gave up. I’ll try again, and hopefully by then my body will have recovered. If not, there’s a very strong case that I shouldn’t be exercising, and maybe, just maybe, I can get out of it with a free pass.