33 days. . . or less. . . left

And now comes the hard part -- the last weeks are tough for any pregnant woman, and I've seen several of my compatriots fall to the "term starts at 37 weeks" fallacy that leads them to believe that their discomfort and contractions will lead to a baby 3 weeks before their due date.

To be clear: for some, it will. For many, though, it'll simply lead to the idea that every moment they endure still pregnant past 37 weeks is agonizing. I know, I've been there. But it's the wrong mindset to be in, it really is. We are blessed to be here - ask any mother of a NICU baby, any mother of a child lost, any woman unable to have a child. We are blessed to be in those long, miserable last few weeks of pregnancy.

It's hard to remember, I know. I give myself a short pep talk and lecture each morning, because here's where I am today: I am in the last 5 weeks of what will most likely be my last pregnancy. This is likely the last time it'll be socially acceptable for me to walk around with a gigantically bulging belly peaking out from underneath my t-shirts. It's likely the last month I'll have to feel the bumpity bump of a baby on the inside. The last time to enjoy moments with my family of four before we become a family of five.

I cannot imagine wishing away these times - despite the sleeplessness, despite the physical difficulties, the breathlessness, the lumbering and clambering, despite it all, I cannot in any way, shape, or form wish this time away.

There is but one thing I could do without over these next 5 weeks: the crushing anxiety of pregnancy after loss. That is all. In the meantime, bring on the prodromal labor, the waddling, the reflux and heartburn and every agony of late pregnancy. I am lucky to be here and I refuse to allow myself to wish it away.