These last days.

I walked into the dark bedroom where my little boy lay asleep.
I covered him up with the blanket he kicked off and kissed him deeply on his forehead.
Then I lingered a little, just watching him sleep.
So peacefully, so trustingly.
Not knowing that his world is going to be turned upside down soon.

It could be tomorrow.
Somehow, today, it struck me hard.
It could be tomorrow.
Which means today might be the last day where my little boy is THE baby.
Where it's just us 3 and no one else.
Where I'll be pregnant for one last day in my life.

I know I'm fully prepared and ready for the changes to come.
In fact I'm excitedly anticipating it.
I know it'll be so good.
I know our little girl belongs with us and will fit right in.

But a small twinge of sadness and perhaps, guilt, kicks in at times like this, about the changes that are about to hit Xander's life. Changes that he has had no say over.
I know we will do all we can to make sure he is still who has always been.
But we can't change what others will say and how others will look at him.
No longer the baby and the child that he is, but as big brother.
So much weight and expectations loaded into those 2 little words.
Quite a burden for a 2 year old.
We won't put it on him, but the rest of the world won't be able to help themselves.
They will fawn over the little one. The precious little tiny newborn. And he will start fading into the background.
I am determined that he will not. Not under my watch, not in my home.

We have a good routine going, the 3 of us.
It is working wonderfully.
And it's about to be tossed into the thin air.
We have a wonderful dynamic, the 3 of us.
And that will hopefully improve and not change too much. One can only try hard enough.

I am now acutely aware that these are the last days of pregnancy for me.
Ever.
I know for a fact that we are done having children and I have no intention of changing my mind.
None.
But pregnancy, for all it's woes and discomfort, is undoubtedly one of the biggest miracles of being a woman.
It is the most magical time of our lives.
It reminds me that I am a woman.
And this is what I've been designed to do.
The creation and nurturing of life.
The incubation of another human being.
It's really special.
I am in constant awe of what my body can do.
I have a newfound respect for the sanctity and sacredness of my body.
I know now that how my body looks on the outside is not nearly as important as it can function on the inside.
These stretch marks that riddle my belly and my thighs, they are battle scars to me. Proof that I once created life. I caress them and appreciate their presence, for they are evidence of my body's triumphs.
Every cramp or pre-birthing wave that I experience these days, I welcome with open arms and relaxation.
For I know it's my body's way of preparing itself for the work it still has left to do.
Birthing.
I don't complain about it as I did the last time, for now I have complete faith in the innate knowledge and capabilities of my body.
All I have to do, is savor these last days of pregnancy, where my child's heart beats within my body and where she rests just under my heart.
For that's where she belongs.
These last days will be precious.
They will be cherished.
They will prepare us for the moment when she is no longer a part of my physical being.
The moment when the image of her will be imprinted in my mind and my heart, and will stay with me for the rest of my life.

I am ready to meet my daughter.
Whenever she is ready.
In the meantime, I hold her within me.