Being pregnant at 38 is a lot different than it was when I was 30. Back then I thought I was old and envisioned a much easier pregnancy journey had I started younger. Now I know how crazy I was to think that. Ya’ll, I know 38 ain’t exactly a senior citizen, but a sista feels old! Between the hyperemesis gravidarum that I experienced during my first trimester, to my current challenges with anemia and my blood sugar shooting sky high if I just smell the wrong food, it’s been a tough 32 weeks.
Despite all of that, though, I love being pregnant. I feel so proud of my body and the work it’s doing. It has a purpose. It kind of makes me feel like Superwoman when I check out Baby Brother’s progress knowing that I am doing this. My body is making a baby.
Then, of course, there’s the awe of seeing my stomach ripple from my son’s movement. I could sit for hours just watching it, and I imagine he’s testing out all of the ways his body can move in his tight little cocoon. It’s all pretty phenomenal, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over the miracle of how babies are born.
I try to remind myself about all of these things on the days when I don’t feel pretty, my skin is dry and looking crazy, my back is aching, and I don’t have the energy to do my hair. Like seriously, who cares about what their hair looks like when their body is actually creating life!
Even though I feel old, I get out of breath from walking up short flights of stairs, and my hips pop every single time I stand up (is that even normal???), this pregnancy is everything I could have asked for. This baby is an answered prayer, and this mama and family are ready to welcome our new addition and shower him with so much love. I waited 38 years for him, and it’ll be so worth it to see him in a few weeks.