Ready, Set...

My belly is humungulorific.  I'm getting tired and moving slower and feeling in many respects like a very ripe watermelon. It finally has sunk in that there will be a baby coming soon, and I've been more and more consumed by that thought.
Things are certainly much different this second time around.  For one thing, I have been getting a LOT of Braxton-Hicks contractions, sometimes quite strong ones throughout an entire day or night, and it makes me chuckle.  Because last time, I know I was timing them, getting a little excited with each strong one, and wondering, "Could this be it?!"  Ha.  This time I know that if you wonder, it's not.
So I'm much calmer overall, just sort of waiting and riding things out, where before any little change made my heart rate elevate a little.  I remember this point in my pregnancy with Little One.  I was so excited, so ready, so anxious and antsy with wondering what the whole birth thing would be like, what it would all be like.  I couldn't sit still. 
This time, though I did get a good bout of nesting energy, I also feel an overwhelming urge to slow down.  Maybe knowing in the back of my mind what a whirlwind it will be after the baby comes home makes me want to enjoy what is left of this time of relative freedom.
The last week the chores and errands have been neglected, and it has been all playdates, outings, and snuggling on the couch with a pile of books. We've spent time with all of our "regular" hang-out buddies, and many that we don't see often as well.  I guess I wanted to get in one more playdate for Little One while I can, one more where it's JUST about Little One. And maybe also, one more  conversation with a friend in which my attention is only split two ways. 
We've had lots of adventures and excursions. Now, while there's just the one car seat to wrangle, just the one meal/drink cup/wipes/etc to pack up, just the one wiggler to dress and braid and potty and heave into the car.  Just the portable tiny One to carry, along with my purse, before my arms are out-numbered and I have to start breaking out equipment like carriers and strollers and donkey carts.
I am appreciating the simplicity of my life.  I'm trying to max it out, use it up.
I'm spending a lot more time sitting peacefully, letting the laundry languish in the dryer while I read, stretch, or even sleep during Little One's nap.  I'm letting projects wait after bed-time while I play a game or sit on the couch with J, holding hands and talking.  Or just listening to the Quiet. 
I'm dropping everything when the baby moves.  Just to put my hands on my tummy, feel those kicks, and think about Her in there.  Just to appreciate what a miracle it is to be pregnant, to have a person in there.  So close that for a tiny bit longer, we're one person.  I'm trying to savor having Her that near, that safe and always with me.  From the moment She is born, I know, there will be a gradual but unstoppable pull; a reverse force of gravity, distancing Her from me until She's gone.
I'll never lie and say that I love being pregnant.  It's a (rather uncomfortable) means to a (wonderful, very worth it) end, in my opinion.  But it is amazing and incredible, and unlike anything else.  I'm so grateful to have been able to experience it. I'm trying to imprint the memory on my mind.
Maybe more than anything, I feel myself magnetically drawn to Little One.  So far, during the days the whole universe revolves and Little One and I together are at the center of it.  Our whole world, much of the time, is just about us.  It will be a big change to have that universe shaken up and given new dimensions.  A lovely change, I know, but maybe hard at first, and certainly one that will be permanent.  So I am just soaking Her in while I have the luxury of being able to do nothing but that.  I've been doing a lot of heaving my giant self down onto the floor to play, of dropping dinner prep in the middle of stirring to dance in the living room, a LOT of snuggling and hugging and curling Her up in my lap.  And a lot of just ignoring everything else and watching Her play or listening to Her talk.  I feel like leaving the rest of the world to take care of itself for awhile, to take time to really enjoy and appreciate all I have. 
This time around I'm less prepared in a material way.  The bedroom isn't finished, my bag's not even packed.  But it isn't because I'm less excited about this baby coming home, less thrilled to meet Her and hold Her tight.  It's that this time I have the benefit of knowing that the decorations on the wall aren't what matters, the spotlessness of the floors aren't what matters, the number of meals frozen in advance aren't what matters.  The best way I can prepare my home for this Little Miss is to fill it with as much love and peace as I can. 
When She gets here, the bouncer might not be set up yet.  But we'll all have been gathered up, like we were last night, cuddled under a blanket laughing and talking about Her.  When She first comes through the door, I think the bliss from those moments will be hanging in the air, waiting to welcome Her.  She probably won't notice that the crib skirt isn't on yet, but I have a feeling that when She's tucked up under the blanket with us next time, while we procrastinate another day in putting it on, She will notice something else.  This feels like Home.