Week 21

Pic-a-Lilly and Beans! (I learned that from Cody's great-grandpa, by the way. He's at least 100 and much smarter than I ever plan to be. I try to pick up on his little bouts of genius when I can.) Anyway, Pic-a-Lilly and BEANS, there is a baby in my uterus this week!

Sometimes, pregnancy is a funny thing. Somewhere around week 17, you just kind of get used to feeling like you live in a fog. You adjust to feeling like you're recovering from Spring Break evening in college, and you even struggle to remember life when you were in control of your body. Because surely my back always felt like it was snapped in half and glued back together unevenly. Surely. Anyway, truth be told, some days you don't remember that you're pregnant. And when people (strangers) ask you how you are, you say "Oh, fine." and prepare to walk away. Then you see the look of  "How rude is she?!" on their face, and you remember that they don't really care about how you are, sigh while you smile, and say "Baby is growing bigger everyday! July will be here in no time!" And it usually appeases their need to know details about your life that they never cared about before. It's true. You forget. Especially between the beginning of the second trimester and week 20, when you've adjusted to going to bed at 8:47 and eating 5 meals a day, but you still don't feel baby moving around and your stomach isn't really growing too much. So you forget that your housing a tiny life until one of your ligaments decides to stretch. Or when you walk by a mirror and say "This shirt fit me two weeks ago..." Or when strangers ask you questions about how you're holding up with a tone that almost makes you feel mocked, because whatever answer you give, you get a super condescending smile and a nod that says "What a whine-o. I would hate to be in the delivery room with her." Whatever. That's one thing I'm really looking forward to post-birth. Even if somebody says "I feel so great, I LOVE BEING PREGNANT!" I'm going to smile, give my best nod, and say "You won't for long!" and walk away. I've done my time in the baby growing business, it's apparently a rite of passage! Actually, that's not true. I pray that the Lord reminds me of how annoyed I am by those people, and with the exception of a few close friends whom I ask to be honest, how often I fantasize about stabbing them with a fork as I walk away.

Anyway, after the longest segway in the world, Baby Girl Gaines has made her presence known in my life. Whether that be through arms, feet, rolling, or some other move that I can't quite figure out, she's there. And hard to miss. Especially at 6 A.M. Every morning. Every single morning. It still makes my heart soar every time she does it, because I think back to those first few weeks of her life, when I begged and pleaded with the Lord to see the pregnancy through. On the less holy side of that, I'm tired, y'all. Even though I go to bed much earlier than I used to, I really only get about 4 hours of deep sleep before something related to baby wakes me up. Turning over and stretching a ligament. Stretching my legs and fighting off a charley horse. Have you ever tried to silently fight a charley horse so that your sweet angel husband isn't disturbed? It's harder than just about anything I've ever done. Or maybe Waking up to the tinges of an aching bladder and trying to decide if you need to get up or if you can fall back asleep... which is impossible because the debate itself is enough to make you that much more aware of how badly you need to go. So as soon as you finish your business, that sweet tiny life wakes up and wants to know how you are. And she kicks, and stretches, and rolls, and nuzzles into you. And you smile through that phase between awake and asleep, and as SOON as you wake up enough to put your hand on your stomach to feel her...she goes back to sleep. And you're wide awake. And you don't go back to sleep until your husbands alarm goes off an hour later. And then you go to work and make it until about an hour after lunch before exhaustion kicks in. And you ponder quitting your job... and you even mention such to your grandmother, to which she responds "I worked until the day before I had your mom." and you roll your eyes and ponder how you ended up the family weakling. But I'm really almost to the point of not caring anymore. I am TIRED. and I will be tired for at least the next 5 years. Let me at least be tired in my black yoga pants. Let me be tired and irritable without worrying about who I offend. I'm just conflicted. I want so badly to quit, but I know how beneficial saving my checks from now until the end of May will be in the grand scheme of things. Ugh. Complicated life choices.

I do want to share a sweet little gem I found on my instagram. I was going through all of my pictures, because sometimes it's fun to see where you were in different seasons of life... like, seasons that didn't involve a baby overtaking your insides. And I found this one from last July. And the date caught my attention because it's a mere 10 days after Ella is due THIS July. And I looked a little closer to see that the "reference" point I made was to a little song I like to call "Never Once." And then I remembered what that entry was about. I had just gone through a really weird girl cycle, and I was two weeks late for a certain monthly visitor. And I had taken test after test to see if maybe something would change, and they were all negative. The morning of that journal entry, my body remembered how to function, and I was so sad. And my heart was broken. And I cried in my pillow while my husband was at church. And it was an ugly cry, not one of those tender little tears that escapes your eye. Sobs. Snot. Sobs. Snot. Repeat. And I finally calmed down enough to venture out onto the patio. It was just gorgeous that morning. The Morning Glories (That I'm still trying to kill) were climbing the pillars of my house. There were hummingbirds at the feeders, and the breeze was blowing just enough to make you aware of it, but not to annoy you. It was peaceful. And so instead of going back inside to wallow in self-pity, I chose to spend a little quiet time with my Jesus, who is always faithful to comfort me whenever my heart is heavy. I opened my bible to Ephesians, my favorite chapter, and stumbled upon a familiar section in chapter 3:

¹⁴ For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, ¹⁵ from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, ¹⁶ that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, ¹⁷ so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, ¹⁸ may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, ¹⁹ and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
²⁰ Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, ²¹ to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever.

And I read it differently for the first time. I read it in a way that applied directly to me, and my sadness began to lift. I was still very aware of my empty womb, and still ached a little every time I thought about it, but my heart was strengthened. My hope was restored. I knew that a baby was coming, because the Lord had been preparing my heart for it. I was confused about why he would do such a thing, especially since the months continued to come and go again without a positive pregnancy test, but my soul anchored to the promise that we weren't walking alone through the process. And I didn't get pregnant the next month, or the month after that. And I still cried each month when that monthly process started up. And I still buried my face in Cody's chest when I had to tell him it was another month without a baby in the belly. I still questioned why a twenty-two year old girl would be struggling so badly to begin a natural process. I still got lost in the "What-ifs" or the "Why me?" But I knew in my heart that this was the journey that the Lord planned, and to this day, I don't understand it. Then one frigid day in November, the Lord wrecked my world. Opened my eyes to everything He is, everything He's capable of, and reminded my shaking hands that He's holding me in His own. The journey to that positive pregnancy test was a broken road, and it hurt a lot of the way there. Everyday of this pregnancy is hard, and some days I stay in the bed because it wears my body down so badly... but I'm on a new road. And it's one of the sweetest, most intimate walks with my Jesus that I've ventured down. It's a hard road, but I love it, because I know the road ends in July, and I know the end of the journey results in the birth of a sweet baby girl that has already captivated every morsel of my being. I know the road ends in the greatest blessing the Lord could give me as a woman, and that I'll know every minute of everyday for the rest of my life how lavishly loved I am as his child. That every time I look at her sweet face, I'll see the most obvious indicators of a creative, attentive, and faithful Lord. I'm super emotional thinking about it, but hopefully that's the hormones. 

Well, that was a deep moment. Let's sucker back into reality for a while. My hips are the most annoying symptom this week. It doesn't matter if I lay on my left side, right side, back, stomach, or a combination of either of those positions, my hips THROB when I lay down. I've tried a pillow between my knees, under my hips, under my back, and even under my feet. I haven't found any relief yet, so I guess I'm about to start sleeping in the recliner or the glider. I was hoping I would have another couple of months before we got to that point, but surely any sleep at all is better than what I've been dealing with. I welcome any thoughts or ideas.Or a hip transplant. My back is equally frustrating, but fortunately laying down seems to be the best thing for that, so it only bothers me between the hours of 9 AM. and 11 P.M. It's weird, because it really hurts to walk. Like, taking a step is the worst. I've been unofficially diagnosed by pretty much everyone with sciatica, but I don't think that's it. The pain is in my back, not my butt or my legs. It's uncomfortable, for certain, but I can only pray it's temporary.And if it's not, I sure hope she's worth it. 

On a total girly note, LOOK AT THIS DIAPER BAG. I already know I'll have an obsession, but I'm trying to resist the urge to purchase it. I have one that I bought as soon as I found out Ella was a girl, but every mom I talk to says "That's cute, but it isn't big enough." So I guess I'll be buying one eventually, but I am IN LOVE with this pattern. And the fact that it's 100% machine Washable. And Teflon lined. Basically, everything that I'll need for the next 5 years of my life. It's funny how my mind has transitioned from purses to machine washable diaper bags. And sweet. I've been so in love with how natural this process has been for me. Sometimes I'm sad that Cody and I's island getaways are over for awhile, but we also gain a sweet, blonde headed, beautiful baby to love... and I just can't imagine another 6 island getaways would beat this experience. Anyway. Back to the Diaper Bag:

That's about all, I think. Our sonogram is next week, so I'm SO SO SO excited to see her. Fortunately, my doctor gives one more sonogram at 35 weeks, but I know others that only see the baby at the dating scan and the anatomy scan. I cannot fathom our next appointment being that last time to see her before she's born. And yes, we will be having another 3d scan at 28 weeks, so I'll really see her three times between now and birth, but they'll be pretty spaced out, so it'll be fun to watch her sweet face fill out and see if her nose remains a replica of her daddy's. Agh, I see why people start chugging castor oil at 38 weeks. I'm ready to get her out of there, but I'm okay with her kicking all around my insides, because I really will miss that. Anyway, before I start chatting it up again, Here's the bump!

KG