Maternity leave has begun*, the baby-moon has come and gone, our bags are packed, I have four different lists on my iPhone all in order of priority (of course), the change table is set up, nappies are washed, the bassinet is made next to our bed, the birth plan is printed, the house is clean and there is literally nothing left for me to do...
I remind myself that in the grand scheme of things these last few days (or weeks as they can become) are nothing. I remind myself to make the most of my beautiful blooming hard baby belly, before it shrinks down to emptiness. I remind myself to make the most of my Ba'il boy and to cherish the moments we have together, just the two of us. I remind myself that this baby will come when it is ready, in the most perfect moment when the stars are aligned and it's all 'meant to be'. I try to ignore the looming medical deadlines that are imposed on expecting mothers and the endless comments from the public that feel obliged to tell me I look like I'm about to 'pop'. After two pregnancies I have come to very much dislike the word 'pop'.
I have two days left in our humble home before we pack up the whole family and head four hours south to the nearest hospital. There we will wait at our River Nest for signs that our wee one is ready to make an appearance. I'm trying not to let the massive move out of our comfort zone shine over the fact that we will be close to our family and friends and be another step closer to meeting our womb child. It feels like the same disruptive energy as moving house even though the effort is probably more emotional than physical. I will miss the comfort and quietness of our wilderness home while I wait for our wee one to come.
This week I am feeling so very sentimental about the closing of a chapter. These last two days will be our last days in our home as a family of three. They will be the last days where I can run to our local shop on my own, arms free. They will be the last days where the three of us have early morning snuggles in bed listening to the morning chorus of birds blasting from the bush behind us. It will be the last time we travel to our River Nest without any 'pit stops' that a newborn requires. For when we return to this home in Cooktown, we will be a family of four. I will breathe deeply every breath of these last days, before they become the beginning of the new incredible chapter of our family journey.
So just for today I'm going to take a 'time out' before the frantic packing, list culling, long car travel begins and quietness ends. I'm going to practice some visualisations. I'm going to meditate. I'm going to lay in the sun. I'm going to have a long swim. I might even tidy up the bookshelf (because it's literally the only thing left to tidy). Then after our transition into the Top Shed at our River Nest... I will continue to wait some more. Hopefully not for much longer.
*I won't be checking my work emails today... because even though I'm on maternity leave I miss work pathetically, even with all the unexpected funding reports coming through.
Photos taken from our baby-moon in Port Douglas. x