I have had an emotional few weeks.
Not so much with the baby, just with...life. There has been emotional trauma (er, I mean drama) in the world, here at home, and at church (the saddest of all).
The drama at home? I have nothing to wear. You laugh, you laugh. But trust me-a woman who has just hit a huge weight milestone, whose belly (and double chin) gets larger by the day needs to have SOMETHING to wear that makes her feel less like a whale trying to squeeze into a sardine can and more like... a woman.
I decided at the start of this pregnancy that I was going to get rid of all the frumpy things I never wear anyway, things usually handed down or bought at yard sales out of desperation (because why unpack, clutter up the closet and then repack clothes that you never wore?) so I did. Meanwhile, I had to pack all the clothes away that no longer fit. Since the maternity clothes I have, I have had for three children prior, let's just say ain't no way I have the body I had at #1.
The result of said purge is this:
Sadly, several of
those shirts are not maternity (and I will not be able to squeeze into them for much longer). I will say, I have a handful (one) of skirts/dresses that are still wearable hanging on hangers. Three of which Matt loathes. (Can anyone say Mumu, or rather MooMoo?)
So-why not go out and buy myself a new wardrobe? Well.
First of all, money doesn't grow on trees. (Duh)
But
primarily~ the maternity clothes that I DO find, do not fit properly. I have a very long torso and a very large bust, making all those cutesy maternity tops too short for my torso and the princess-line busts falling just above my neck (only a *slight* exaggeration.) My legs, too, are extremely long, making all those pretty feminine "dresses" into something much more like shirts.
So why not sew some? Well.
Though I have tried, countless times, to make myself flattering things-I have YET to succeed. I have a weird body (I hate it), and I am not skilled enough to modify patterns to suit my regular body, let alone my maternity body. I have to admit, it is with a tremendous amount of fear that I even consider sewing for myself. Thus far, it has only proven to be a waste of time, energy, fabric and money.
blech. But, desperate times call for desperate measures. Wish me luck.
Though it seems a trivial, superficial concern~clothing oneself is still a rather necessary part of life. ;-)
The journey into whaledom with lack of whale coverage, coupled with the
much more potent stresses surrounding me has pretty much turned me into a blubbering crybaby. Let's just say, Matt hasn't had to shower in several weeks. Worse yet, there are days when I can't even muster a tear, rather, I just go about life with dull eyes and a sullen face-and that is when I KNOW I am in trouble. That girl is not me. The fact that pregnancy hormones are likely affecting my abilities to cope, while likely true, is not very comforting.
It has been quite a ride for everyone and I am eternally grateful for the compassion Matt heaps on me and for the forgiveness he shows me when I unfairly "unload the truck" on him.
There. I have no clothes. I have mounds of stress. Now that I have adequately whined, let's talk about the good stuff, shall we?
The reason I have no clothes is because my belly grows rounder with life. A big belly is a great feat and a great gift, felt even moreso after
the scare. Here is my last photo, at 20 weeks. I can see a big difference in belly size--
---and from this picture, it looks like Rebecca size might have dwindled a bit.
Then:
Now:
Had to get a picture on my lover-ly patio, my favorite place to be, next to the beauteous hanging honey basket I
told you all about. It's called Snow Princess, and I believe it is alyssum.
Here she is in all her glory...
Finally, at 26 weeks, I buckled down and made a prenatal appointment. None of the midwives believed I knew what I was talking about (as far as the due date) so they ordered an ultrasound.
I didn't complain. Ultrasounds are one of my favorite things in life. This one was the best one yet, sadly it was the first one Matt missed.
It is a miraculous, amazing thing to watch the foot that is kicking you while you feel it kicking and to watch the fingers as you feel their scrape. It is awe-inspiring to see your baby drinking it's own amniotic fluid~ as his/her mouth opens and closes, opens and closes. Nothing can describe the pure joy as you watch the child within shaking his/her head while playing with the umbilical cord. All these things I watched.
It took my breath away and gave me joy I haven't known or felt in weeks. I only mourned that Matt couldn't experience it too.
Something amazing happens when you hear the heartbeat of your child within. All of a sudden, the child you have loved since the beginning takes on a whole new dimension and your love multiplies exponentially, though you didn't think it could.
Here is Smooch's first picture, a great one if you know what you are looking it.
Matt couldn't figure out what he was looking at, so in desperation, I drew him this quick sketch to help him figure it out. He didn't.
But maybe it will help you.
For the record, I have never CLAIMED to be an artist, so don't judge my incompetence. ;-)
I say, this child sure is a cutie! (The real one, not the drawing!)
Oh, and by the way, I amazed all the midwives by getting the due date DOWN TO THE DAY.
HA!
August 27th it is.
(Maybe.)
;-)
