Thursday, November 3, 2011

And the Sun Set on My Due Date

Yesterday came and went.

November second, my due date.

I was under no illusions that I'd have this baby on my actual calculated day, but it does mean I've now been gestating for forty weeks, and that's something to celebrate, I suppose.

My sister Lucy came over early so I could go to the temple. It's a little something I like to do for myself, go to the temple on my due date. I've done it three times now. I love going to the temple. It's the opposite of the usual Mormon experience. Usually we like to gather and talk and socialize and eat, but at the temple we mostly sit and think. I'm not always comfortable at the church social occasions, but I'm always comfortable at the temple.

During my time there I thought about creation and delivery and gratitude, for both.

We live really close to the temple, down a straight tree-lined street, across the foothills of the mountains. November always looks so romantic on Provo--yellow lit, snow-capped, leafy and cozy-colored. Why did I think spring was the only acceptable time to have a baby? This is going to be delightful--a winter-warmed babyhood.

I turned up our lane to see Chup's car in the drive way.

It was like feeling glitter in my stomach, all shaken up like a snow globe.

Chup had been out of town for four days and I had missed him. As always when he leaves out of town I am immensely blessed with energy and happy moods with a large helping of patience for the children. Also, I was helped a lot my family and neighbors who fed us and dropped in, called and brought us treats. But now that he was back, on my due date, I felt reassured that if, if, IF we were to have a baby on this marked occasion he'd be safe at home with me.

We had lunch together, salmon and pasta for me, noodles for the children. Naptime ensued with it's promise of a hushed house. Then a visit from Stephanie and the kids, hot baked chocolate chip cookies and playtime in the Green Room with it's cover of left-over, bouncy orange Halloween balloons.

Any signs of anything? No, not really. My hips feel like they've been stretched enough to birth an elephant, but for my sake, let's hope this one's a human.

I feel sore. I feel teary. I want to cry. I want to thank everyone I have ever known for every good thing they ever did for me. I want to fix problems. I want to reply to all the nice emails in my inbox right now, like little presents I get to open daily. I want to have a huge dinner party. I want to stop feeling dry and nauseated all the time. I want my children to know how much I adore them. I want Chup to feel empowered. I want to hold this baby, in my arms now.

Not much happened on my due date, as you can read. Chup gave me a thorough body massage and sometime around 2:37am I fell asleep, finally giving up on that teeny, tiny chance that all those charts, indicators and wheels could be right this time.

I'll rely on intuition instead . . . eight more days.