Monday, November 16, 2015

Full

There comes a point in pregnancy when the only way you can describe it is with the word "full".  I've reached that point this week, and it's a strange sensation.

Physically, my womb is full, as much as it can get. The skin is shiny and tight with the strain of that fullness. It aches with tension. My lungs and stomach are crowded higher in my chest than is normal. Each breath feels unnatural; I feel out of breath and my lungs protest that they can't hold any more. Eating, likewise, is uncomfortable. A few bites and my organs protest the lack of space. My face has a fullness, a strangeness, that it normally lacks.

Fullness is a good word for my emotional state, as well. I find my emotions leak out  regularly in the form of tears, laughter, and temper tantrums. Little things, both good and bad, overwhelm me. A sweet gesture can send me soaring, and a slightly sad news story can make me weep openly. I'm elated and frightened, frustrated and empowered, hopeful and despairing all at once. For someone who is usually pretty in control of her emotions, this chaos is dizzying.

It's nearly time for delivery, and I'm trying to be patient, but this fullness is exhausting and heavy. It's a strangely between state of being, as well. Before my first pregnancy, I would have guessed full to be a state of completion. Now, I recognize that fullness is an incredibly transitional state, and it is a time of waiting and discomfort and nervousness.

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