36 Weeks, 5 Days

We are 100% on your Maybe Girl name.
And I'm in LOOOVE with it.

So you know what this means, right?

You are a boy.

For whom we have NO NAME.

So this is my new and probably final gender guesstimate for you and for a few reasons:

One, I'm always wrong throughout my pregnancies but right at the end.  This whole time, I've thought you were a girl.  But you're not.  I really think you're not.
Two, you're huge.  I'm huge.  Ridiculously so.
Three, you're strong and are starting to battle your way out.  You are not going down without a fight, no sirree!
Four, we have no name for you and no real contenders right now, so that can only mean that you will pop out needing one badly.
Five, I've caught myself three times this week referring to you with the male pronoun.  "He" this and "he" that.
Subconsciously.

And over the past few days, when I've imagined your birth, as you slip out of my body and into this world, I notice that I'm imagining a little boy.

If I'm right, you are in GOOD company over here!  :)
We're deep in little men though I have to warn you that your smallest big brother will probably spend his life tormenting you.
Sorry about that.
He's a crazy little lover, that one, who would be THRILLED with a little brother.
To harass endlessly :)

A few things:

I'm trying to post more frequently for you as we lead up to your birthday.
Things are changing rapidly for me now and the entire household is prepared for your arrival.

Because I'm not sleeping, I'm back to needing, really and desperately needing, an afternoon nap.
You have been brutal lately, doing who-knows-what down on my pelvic floor but causing all manner of pinching and burning sensations.
You're still very active which is surprising to me.
And frankly, a little scary.
I need a Chill Baby, remember?
REMEMBER?

I know you're not liking what's going on between us right now but the fact of the matter is that I've got to try and get you to turn over and I'm doing just that.
The point, however, is to make you uncomfortable enough by squishing you a bit so that it'll force you to want to change positions.
It doesn't feel great to me either, if it makes you feel any better.
I've been ordered to sit up extremely straight, tipping you forward as much as I can (thereby squashing you) and spending some time on my hands and knees.
Can't tell you how much I'm loving that right now.
So, please, just roll over and we can stop.
I'll be checking in on you on Wednesday and if you've not moved by then, I'm going to have to kick it up a notch.
Babies coming out sunny-side up are notoriously harder to birth.
That. Ain't. Happening. Unmedicated.
So...snap to it, little one.

One last little thing--

When the midwives were here, we covered the details of my planned birth.
Where I would go if I needed to be transferred to a hospital.
Any special requests of mine.
(The only request I had was that I did not want my other kids to be made to feel, one way or another, either pressured to attend the birth or not welcome.  I'm far more concerned about the first with Chas.  I do not want anyone to try and convince him to join us--if he comes, he comes on his own.  And if he doesn't, no one makes a big deal of it.)
Who, if anyone, would be taking video or photography.
Which kind of brings me back to Chas.

Chas was strangely interested in our home visit which sort of surprised me.
I guess I was expecting him to hang out with Emily and his siblings outside but he sat right down at the table with us adults.
He also accompanied us to our bedroom where we went over the preparations that Daddy and I needed to make before their arrival and what to do in case of an emergency.
It was mentioned, at some point, that a sibling of yours might be a good choice for a photographer.
(I had said that I wanted both video and photos but that I did not want another person in the room so I was fine with whatever we managed to capture between Daddy and the midwives picking up the camera.)

I approached Chas alone the following day and inquired if he would be interested in this "job."
He was hesitant at first but as I laid it out for him, he seemed to be far more comfortable with the idea.

This is what I told him: 
I understood his apprehension in being in the room, specifically in regards to me, and that he could stand at my head on the other side of the bed.
He'd be able to see you emerging but would not necessarily see much else.
"Use the zoom!" I told him :)

I also said that I was not necessarily planning on any birth photos anyway because in order to do so, I would really need to ask another person to join us and I didn't want to do that.
I wanted him to know that if he felt weird or wanted to leave at any time that I wanted him to just set the camera down and take off.
I would not, will not, be disappointed in "missing" any photos; I will simply be happy with what we are able to capture.

If he sticks around, wonderful.
And if he doesn't, that's wonderful, too.
Because the one thing he has told me time and time again is that he wants to meet you IMMEDIATELY after you are born.
So I know he'll be waiting at the door, even if he's not present at your birth.

I'm trying to come up with a few different birth scenarios that I hope will help me when it's truly "time."
The one I dread the most but think is most likely is a wee hours of the morning birth.
The one I hope for the most is a gorgeous afternoon birth.
Mostly, I just want things to go smoothly, for you to be strong and healthy, and for me to be able to find my inner strength and confidence and to put full faith in the trust I have in my own body to get us both through safely.

I have to admit that while I'm nervous, I am embracing the idea of experiencing the real deal from start to finish.
To come full circle.
On my own.
It's strangely empowering to sort of hand it over to my body's natural instincts and to trust that they will sync with yours and that without much thought or forced effort on either of our parts and with little intervention by anyone else, we will do this together.
Get you here, finally.

I smile just thinking of it.

Loving you already,
Mama