Baby LeMoine is 48 long-ass hours overdue. He's still alive, I'm pretty sure - which is the biological state we're going for. Every once in a while my stomach moves up and down on its own like a self-activating trampoline, which I take as a sign of life. I have to wonder, though, if the Great Being Above purposely does this to people who have been waiting a long time for a baby: makes our babies come late. KuKd people, infertility-fighting people and the like. Is it some final test of patience, of endurance?
(By the way, don't bother suggesting holistic strategies for making labor happen. No matter what it is, I guarantee you that I've seen it, done it, gotten the t-shirt. Eating pineapple? Yup. Eggplant? Yup. Oatmeal stout? Yup. Walking? Yup. Dancing to rap music in the living room? Yup. Sex? Um....not so much. But hey, if your body resembled that of a sore-breasted manatee, you wouldn't exactly feel like a temple of passion either.)
Not that I'm complaining. Bitching a little bit, I guess, but that's just because I'm impatient. I really, really need and want for this thing to become reality and not just a dream, so I can finally relax and believe it's going to happen. I feel fine overall, walking and working, socializing and going to movies, taking showers, doing girl-push-ups in the living room, eating dark chocolate from Kevin's "secret" stash (yes, he's one of those skinny bastards that can eat one teensy-weensy square of chocolate each day and be satisfied with that, just that, and nothing more). I'm grateful that body didn't get the urge to release this baby early, all thin and jaundiced and frail. Nope: this little guy's got to already be in the 8-9 pound range, if the size and feel of my whopping belly are any indication.
What's more, at least you're pregnant. I can hear the message bubbling through the atmosphere, having now lived with one foot inside of the KuKd/TTC/IF world for several years now. It's funny the messages that you hear as you go through life and have different experiences, messages that would've otherwise landed on deaf ears. I wouldn't have heard this message before. I would have taken pregnancy for granted, taken positive outcome as a given, been utterly unaware of the painful glass wall through which other mommas and wannabe-mommas might view my current circumstance. But I get it now.
Which leads me to the big, huge, huggy, lovey ball of emotion I want to hurl at anyone reading this wants a baby but doesn't have one (by the way, I classify myself in that category still, for now). I want to say thanks, first, for the outpouring of support for me and for Sean sparked by my last post. It means everything, that support, especially coming from KuKd/IF/TTC mommas who - through their own pure grace and compasssion - manage to still have room in their huge hearts to celebrate someone else's pending motherhood, someone else's pending baby. That's a LOT of space in your heart, more than I imagine most people having.
It makes me wonder if I, too, am one of those big-hearted people. I know I haven't always been. If I had, I wouldn't have balked at the idea of going to my friend C's daughter's first birthday, a year after Zachary's stillbirth. I wouldn't have pulled the stillbirth-card right then, but put it aside to support my friend.
But I feel inspired now to be a better person, someone who gives more and takes less. I feel like loss and death have turned me into such a taker over the years, a needer, and less of a giver. Shit; I can't even be bothered to donate five bucks to NPR, even though I listen to it every day on my way to work. I should really try to cough up some change where change is due.
Back to the subject of babies...part of me wants to say...sorry. Sorry? Sorry for being pregnant? That's not quite the right word, but what IS the right word to describe this feeling, the feeling of compassion toward others who don't have the thing I have at this exact moment? If I could wave a magical spooge-propelling wand to give others lasting, thriving pregnancies, I would? Like my friend B, for instance, who made Sean the paper origami-crane mobile. She's been wanting a baby for some time. I know it's a source of pain for her. And yet, she's genuinely happy for me, for Kevin, for Sean. I've got this weird urge to say Hey B, I'm sorry. I'm sorry my cervix sucked up spooge. I wish I could pass along some of this spooge-sucking energy to you. But that just seems like a damn strange thing to say.
Anyway. Everybody should look at the IF/TTC/KuKd community and feel instanteously inspired to do good in the world and show genuine compassion for others, even in the face of your own personal struggles. I wish everybody would.
Those are the thoughts de jour, this strange purgatory-day in Seattle, where K and I are floating between parenthood world and non-parenthood world, neither here nor there. Thank you, again, for the glowing well wishes. I'll certainly post an update here once something update-worthy occurs.