Flashing back to that incomparable time when my son lived in my belly. I was 37-years-old, an over-the-hill “later mother” who kept doctors’ guessing. I mean, referring to to mine as a “high-risk, geriatric pregnancy” didn’t make me hold my breath less during all of those milestone appointments, but I knew in my heart my son would soon be in my arms. I think you can see that in my smile. (Yes, my son inherited my dimples.)
I remember feeling so full of life, wonder, and promise. I remember embracing a body I didn’t recognize, one I could no longer call my own. I remember staying up late at night thinking about my son…what he’d be like, look like, sound like. I remember feeling so overwhelmed by pure, unfiltered, innate love…love that continues to this day, and will stay with him eternally.
How were you feeling during your last month of pregnancy? Ready to burst? Tired? Excited? Overjoyed? Nervous? Full of love? In need of ice cream? Give me a glimpse into that time before you met your baby. A lucky commenter or two will win a copy of my children’s book, “When You Lived in My Belly“.