I am full term today. 37 weeks. Babycenter.com says this means that if I “go into labor now, his lungs will likely be mature enough to fully adjust to life outside the womb.” I’m so incredibly grateful to have made it to this point and am definitely looking forward to meeting Jackson sometime soon.
I only wish that my own mind could “fully adjust to life” as it is and as it is about to be. I wish there were a way for my heart and mind to reach “full term” as far as learning to live without my little girl goes. As ready as I am to meet Jackson and as happy as I am that he will be here soon, I am just missing my Hudson so very much. I miss her all the time, of course, but I suppose it is no surprise that during this time of incredible transition and sad anniversaries, I miss her more than ever.
We are almost as ready as we can be logistically speaking. The car seat is installed. The baby clothes are washed and folded. The birth plan is just about finished. The bags are almost completely packed. Tomorrow I’ll make some meals for the freezer.
But the diaper bag remains untouched. And Hudson’s (Jackson’s) room remains unchanged, with the exception of being full of piles of clothes and books and other gifts we’ve received for Jackson. The clothes she wore in the two days before she went to the hospital are still in the hamper. There is still water in the humidifier. There are still size four diapers in the basket at the end of the changing table. The crib mattress is still at the lowest level, suitable for a toddler. Every time I pass by there, I’m bothered by the sight, by all the mess—part of me would feel so much better, so much more prepared, if I could just get it all into drawers and closets where it belongs and have the room ready for our little boy (even though he won’t sleep there for several months). But I still can’t bring myself to do it.
I am in broken record mode, I know. I’ve hashed and rehashed these same sentiments over and over here and in my head for months now. But it doesn’t change a single thing about how I feel. I am as heartbroken and feel as lost as I have since the very beginning. I know there is joy coming and coming very soon. But I also know that all that means is that I will learn to experience the joy alongside this pain. It won’t make the pain or the missing go away. Nor do I want it to.
What I want is to talk to my little girl, to hear her voice, to hug her close. I am just missing her so much. I am as ready as I can probably be for her little brother to get here, but I am as unprepared as ever to live without her.
Oh, how I miss her.