Today the rain falls, as it is forecasted to until the 22nd of May.
I am unable to catch my breath tonight, literally, and so I've settled onto the couch, my huge belly resting on my lap. My muscle is ripping away from my ribcage again, as it did when I was pregnant with Fiona, and the pain is excruciating. Now I think my physical anxiety to deliver this beautiful, ready soul is paired with my mental urge to do so. Baby, come out, come out. Come to me, baby five.
So many loose ends of my life are tied up now. Having passed the anniversary of Charlotte's birth there is some lightening to the fear I had that somehow fate would align the births of the two Maybabies. I needed her to have her own time. Tomorrow Greg will celebrate his birthday, and I wish that I could deliver to him the one gift he asked of me eight years ago, a gift I wept for years upon not having been able to provide to him. I hold that gift for him, tightly.
Tonight I'm merely breathing, or trying to, and wishing that ten days could turn into one, and that there could be some resolution to the mystery of the rest of my life.
And also, feeling slightly envious of all the people I know who only wonder when that baby will be born, and have no "if's" attached to the idea of birth. My "if" seems so huge right now...
4 comments:
It rained the day I delivered my son. I have always felt rain is kind of cleansing this way. May your babe be delivered before the rains are over!
In more ways than one, I wish your breath comes easily to you these last few days. Breathe, just breathe.
(((((hugs)))))
Oh, the "ifs". I also feel like "if" is the huge disclaimer in my life right now. No "whens" but always "if".
Thinking of you so much.
I think of you every time I see the rain dripping from the lilacs.
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