Oh To Be A Baking Potato

{The following pictures were taken while I was still trying NOT to turn into a baked potato :), when my first niece was born.}

I am in those last days of pregnancy.  The last few weeks, when each seven day slice begins to feel like a month as your body unfurls.  I feel like I hold strong for months on end, trying–not to regulate–but at least to moderate my cravings, continue my exercise, and dress to compliment my ever increasing size.  And then, between 4 and 6 weeks before delivery, a shift occurs.  I am sick and tired of regulating, and it doesn’t seem to do a bit of good anyway.  I feel as though I watch all my months of work turn to waste as my body does what it has been aching to do all along–blow up and fall apart.

Caloway Ann Cleveland. Born May 20, 2013. 9lb, 1oz and totally edible.

One glance at these shots make me remember why I keep becoming a potato over and over again.

While I can only fit small amounts of food in the space my body has (so graciously) left for my stomach, and while I cannot eat anything I really like (without paying dearly with the heartburn that ensues), I find that what food I CAN fit in there, I don’t want to have to think one red minute about.  I don’t want to wonder whether it is good for me, or not. The level of full body exhaustion I have, just from hauling this new body from one place to another–keeping up with the schedules of two active girls and one 18 month old boy who still wants to be held by his Mommy most of the time–is enough to leave me in tears by the end of the day.  Who would be crazy enough to add OPTIONAL exertion on top of that, even if they do say it will make me less tired overall and keep the swelling out of my legs.  Bull.  And as for dressing, I am over it.  Makeup on my swollen face looks comical, and no matter what I wear it is sure to either impede my already-shallow breathing ability or put pressure on the enormous bump and give me a day filled with uncomfortable and distracting contractions.

There’s nothing more miraculous than a baby fresh from heaven.

And the love that surrounds them the moment they enter the world…Missing you in these pictures Caroline!

I was thinking about it the other day, as I waddled back and forth from one side of the bed to the other going through the penguin dance of making our bed…I feel like a baking potato.  I’ve done my duty.  I have gone through being pushed down in the dirt, sprouting, growing leaves, and climbing daily towards the sun.  Now, all my hard work has left me just where it was supposed to leave me–big and round and filled with life.  What happens to the potato, once its work is done? It’s wrapped up and placed in a warm, quiet place to soften until it is just the correct amount of ripe to offer its life to the waiting world (and if you want to take the analogy one step farther it’s also cut open and prodded vigorously when the big moment arrives ;)).

It was an exceptionally long (3 day!!!) labor for poor T. Sorry to post a picture of you straight after being split open, but I didn’t feel like I could leave the Momma out of this post. So proud of you!! And I love that little Cali Ann… 1 sister down, three sisters to go!

Would somebody please wrap me up and put me somewhere quiet?  I feel like I deserve it.