34 Wks: Finishing Touches

Finishing touches in more ways than one!

I cannot believe I have a 7-pound-or-so little person squirming inside of me. I used to just feel his kicks and rolls in one area of my body. Last night, I could feel little appendages kicking down toward my groin, while at the same time feeling little nudges up by my liver. I got to play with him a little last night--he would nudge up by my right rib margin, and I would nudge back. Then he would kick again. And so it went, back and forth. And I want to see him so badly! One of the L&D nurses who knows me very well by now made a comment about how J and I obviously make such beautiful children, and how she cannot wait to see this one. She, of course, was referencing E, who has already learned which of the nurses he can charm out of popsicles and Jell-O while I'm at the hospital. I keep reminding myself that Zachary is not E, but instead will be his own little person. My knowledge of the laws of human genetics tells me that he could have my green eyes, J's brown ones, or the blue eyes of my father and J's mother. He could have our brown hair or the red hair of J's father. We already know he has a good deal of hair, as it was seen on an ultrasound.

Last night, J's mom called to get info on my amnio date and dates of possible birth. I wish I could have told her an exact date. I'm hoping to get that squared away at my appointment on Tuesday. She has put in for tentative vacation "sometime in May" at her place of work, and will be making the 4-hour drive up here to help us with E. They'll have a ball together as they always do, as she will take him to her hotel and let him swim in the indoor pool and feast on junk food to his heart's desire. My kid loves hotels,for some unknown reason. He thinks spending the night in one is the coolest vacation ever, even though it may only be a block away from his home. He relishes continental breakfasts, even. Strange, I know. I'm reminded of the time we literally forgot to pay the electric bill and were out of power. We went to stay overnight in a local hotel while we waited for the electric company to open the next morning, and E thought it was the greatest adventure instead of being the day my Mommy License was almost revoked. (In my defense, that was in the first trimester, when I was still working like a fiend, managing my full-time pre-med schedule,and suffering from the beginning stages of Placenta Brain!) Anyhow, I am grateful for her help. I think some bonding time with Grandma in the midst of the whirlwind of bringing his new baby brother into the world will make him feel special and help combat any jealousy that may arise. Of course I could be wrong, and he could throw a fit to stay with us. If he does, I'll blame J. There was one time where J's mom came up here to get E to take him to her house to spend the week over the summer. E didn't want to go at the last minute, but we knew he would change his mind as soon as J's mom drove away. So J pretty much put him in his mom's car anyway. Now E is suspicious everytime he stays with Grandma, that we are going to pull a fast one on him. And there is going to be such a mix of emotions in the little guy when he is no longer an only-child that we need to handle this delicately, lest I should have to pay for therapy bills later. We have tried to prepare him, to let him know that Zachary will take up a lot of our time, but that he is still out little Prince. That we love him more than words. I think he gets it: the other night, as he was saying goodnight before bed, he told me he loved me, he told J he loved him, "And," he said, "I love Zachary, too!"

Last night, I packed Zachary's bag for the hospital. And got the diaper bag ready. I managed to remember how I liked to keep the hospital room cool when I had E, so I packed some little sleepers and and his take-home outfit. Tiny socks, too. My heart lept with joy as I folded the tiny clothes, picturing the baby who is to fill them. My youngest son--the baby I have always wanted but was too stubborn to admit. It's been so long that I had to remind myself, when getting the diaper bag ready, what exactly goes in a diaper bag, aside from diapers. It was so surreal. Just as it is surreal, after all of these trips to the hospital, to look to a day in the near future where there will actually be the birth of a baby involved. When we will dress him in the clothes we bought months ago, secure him in the carseat that has been installed for weeks, and bring him home to grow and learn and live with us.

I cannot believe I have survived this, yet again. I know the battle is not over. I am choosing to remain in ignorant bliss over the different things that can go wrong at this stage in the game. But when you have braced and prepared yourself for months to have a sick child, 34 weeks may as well be full-term. It certainly isn't 21 weeks, or 22, 23, 24, 25 weeks. I can picture E's birth at 34 weeks, how he was a picture of health and beauty, and know that I have made it just as far this time.