pregnancy observations: 30 weeks
And just like that, we’re in the fourth quarter of pregnancy, digging into the third trimester like a bowl of cereal, starting to see the milk. Ten more weeks. In the time between, an election that feels unfathomable, a sewing pattern to finish and release, many more books I want to read, lots of work to do, and a quilt to quilt! I don’t know how much I will actually accomplish. For all we know, this baby could come early – though I know it’s more likely that he’ll be late. But I’m beginning to feel a different sort of tenuousness – less like I may lose it all (though that terrible thought still invades more often than I’d like to admit), and more like this baby is actually coming and of course I am not prepared. There is no preparation. Birth feels like a finish line, but I know it’s more like a starting gun, like a relay baton being passed to a self I don’t know yet, someone who will be transformed in some big or small way when she first sees her firstborn child. I can’t fathom who that person will be, can’t fathom what my life will become. Any attempt to imagine it feels thin and wobbly, with a big blurry spot where the baby should be. I won’t know until I’m there.
Baby room slowly in the works, featuring dog bed to help Bobo feel comfy among all the new things too! Surreal!
I got to spend a little bit of time with my closest “mom friend,” or friend who has had a baby, in a park last week. She’s also the friend with whom I’ve talked the most about religion and spirituality in the past few years, both of us working through so many of the same questions at the same times. She asked me lots of good questions and gave me space to wonder and process. I repeated to her and myself something that I wrote in an earlier observations post, something that feels more and more true the more time I think about it: that the first trimester was rooted in my body, the second trimester was rooted in my mind, and the third trimester is rooted in my spirit. That for each portion of the pregnancy, my center has unintentionally shifted profoundly and clearly. These are the spirit months, and I feel the change. I’ve been pulled back to my faith in god, whatever it is, growing ever more complicated and dappled in this new state of pregnancy. Pulled back to awareness and contemplation, to deep silence, thinking about deep time, about great love and great suffering, about releasing control, about solidarity and centering, about incarnation and sacrifice and really big, really impossible-feeling salvation for all things. It feels more formless than ever before – exacerbated by the longest period of time in my life that I’ve ever not attended church, because of the pandemic. I’m actually truly grateful for the forced break, the true quiet, the release of even that rhythm (which so easily becomes a pressure or place of confusion/pain), inviting me to more genuine listening, wondering, hope. When you strip everything away, what is left?
In our conversation, after I said, laughing, “I keep trying to believe in Jesus,” my friend asked me, “what does belief feel like?” What an excellent question! What does it feel like? Have I ever felt it? I’ve felt hope, I’ve felt faith, I’ve felt joy! But belief? So much of pregnancy hinges on these sorts of feelings too – do I really believe that this baby will survive, that I’m strong enough to both birth him and mother him, that there is a future beyond this strange liminal space of pregnancy? In some ways I won’t believe it until I’m right in the middle of it. I’m Thomas needing to touch the wound in Jesus’ side, see with my own two eyes, feel with my fingers. I am full of doubt and fear. At the park, the only answer I had was, “I don’t know what belief feels like, but I just keep deciding to keep holding onto it, over and over, and I haven’t decided against it yet.” “It” being faith. “It” being christianity in some loose shape, certainly not evangelicalism anymore, at least not in the way I used to know it. And “it” also being this baby. I keep deciding to believe in him, even though I haven’t seen him yet, even though I have no idea how my life will change when I do.
Like I said, spirit. What a wild time to be learning such things.
More tangibly, I feel super pregnant! My body is truly weird now! I’m overwhelmingly grateful for such a healthy pregnancy so far – no red flags or hiccups up until this point. That feels nothing short of miraculous, especially given the degree of anxiety I’ve felt throughout the pregnancy, how very much (too, too much) I know about what could go wrong. I find myself in a constant brain fog, in late-afternoon fatigue that stretches into the evening, in still trying really hard to feed myself enough good stuff. I’m a little bit underweight for the weeks, though my belly is measuring correctly, but that feels somewhat stressful. I’ve been instructed to eat more fats – bring on the cheese! Just enjoyed an afternoon vanilla yogurt. This baby is sponsored by Big Dairy!
I’ve also been meeting with a therapist who is a part of the midwife practice I’m planning to birth with (unless new risks pop up and we have to birth the hospital instead), talking through the new versions of my anxiety and ocd I’ve been dealing with in pregnancy, and making a plan for postpartum mental health care. This is such a big gift, having healthcare providers who so readily integrate mental health into normal pregnancy care, something I knew I needed going into this and was prepared to ask or even fight for, but instead was encouraged at every step to get the help and support I need. It makes me feel like every pregnant woman should see a therapist, every prenatal care program should include mental health – sadly I know this is severely not the case, but varies so wildly by city and care provider. I’m very lucky to live somewhere where this sort of care is available. And very grateful. Just today, in wanting to learn more about my options for medication should my anxiety spiral out of control in the postpartum period, I was given a referral to a psychiatrist who specializes in prenatal and perinatal care – I didn’t know that that specialization existed, wouldn’t have known to ask for it.
My anxiety has been bad, quite bad, throughout the pregnancy, for lots of different reasons, but I knew it would be. Having that expectation helped me cope and manage it in ways I feel proud of now, though it’s ongoing and complicated and hard. So much pressure, so much on the line, so much new information coming from all sides, so many truly extreme and unprecedented hormonal fluctuations. I’m actually surprised that I’m not feeling worse! Though that time may come too. Trying to be very, very gentle with myself, to tell the truth about how I’m feeling, and to ask for help when I need it. I’ve needed a lot of help.
We have now had four separate baby showers with different pockets of people, all but one mostly facilitated by Zoom. A room in our house is slowly being filled and warmed by baby gear (a crib! a baby hammock on loan from a friend! a changing pad! secondhand clothes and cloth diapers in the drawers! books!). We now own both a stroller and an infant car seat. By all accounts, we have everything we need, more even! I was told to expect generosity, but I didn’t know how truly helpful it would feel to be given things – beautiful, functional, things we need and will use for years and years. The people who love us have been so generous and I feel truly held up by them, both in support and love, and beautiful gifts. The baby showers were also wonderful, and each very different. It was special to see the different matrices of relationships, and to receive such specific support from each group, from aunts and uncles, parents, grandparents, friends. It has been so sad and hard to feel so physically separate from so many of these people we love throughout the pregnancy/pandemic, so being able to celebrate together even in a small or partial way, felt really special.
Things I’ve been enjoying lately:
The new Fleet Foxes album just came out today – which I found out because I was thinking “ooh, it’s fall, I need to listen to the Fleet Foxes”, and there it was! They know their prime season!
Isaiah and I have been watching The Leftovers when our hearts can handle it. Wow, what I should. Honestly, it’s exactly what I needed to watch to help me process some underlying feelings of control and fear. Thanks, prestige television!
We enjoyed Unpregnant on HBOMax too! A fun and thoughtful teen movie, and also a really beautiful depiction of complete and compassionate women’s health care and parents responding un-terribly to tough stuff! Great!
Relistening to a podcast that has been incredibly important to me in the past few years – Another Name for Every Thing with Richard Rohr. As I felt myself shift back toward spirit I knew it was time to revisit these conversations with a spiritual teacher who helps me think more deeply and widely and compassionately.
Reading lots of books, but hardly finishing any. I enjoyed Blessed are the Nones by Stina Kielsmeier-Cook, a writer who I share a lot of similar background with, working through her own spiritual dilemma / change. It’s a quick and easy read, and felt good to finish something. So much of what I read is far too dense to work through quickly! My joy and my pain!
A few weeks ago I started a weekly poetry workshop on zoom with a group called the Madwomen in the Attic – a long-time Pittsburgh writing workshop for women of all ages and experience levels that’s run by a local university. I can already tell I found something really good, and a group of women I hope to be a part of for a very long time. A great part of my week. The classes run basically right up to my due date – I hope my time with them isn’t cut short by early birth!
Vanilla yogurt, vanilla ice cream, the triumphant return of CORN FLAKES (can you believe I literally couldn’t eat them throughout most of the first and all of the second trimesters? I’m sorry corn flakes, did you feel betrayed?!). Like I said, lots and lots of dairy. It’s working for me. (Plus vegetables, don’t worry!)
The shift in the weather has me feeling renewed from the outside in. Today is the first day of fall! This is the season our baby will be born in (unless he’s twenty days late which is too many days!), so it’s special to be stepping into it. I’m wearing a turtleneck and wool socks, I’m wrapped in a blanket, I’m wearing boots and leaning into warmth where I can find it. I’ve been waiting for this, for so many things, and the waiting isn’t meaningless. It’s good to be reminded of that. Gonna keep cuddling with our sweet dog, Bobo through these colder days, enjoying his warm body curled up near me! He won’t be an “only child” for much longer! We have our first childbirth class (over Zoom, of course) tomorrow night. Wish us luck!
(P.S. PREORDER MY BOOK! Baby #2! Crazy days! More about this coming soon! Xoxo!)