Today is Canadian Thanksgiving, and I feel like I should write a cliche post about how “thankful” I am for the “blessings” this year has brought and how “grateful” I am. And while those things are absolutely true, what I feel is lucky.
I feel lucky to have made it this far — 34 weeks, 1 day. I feel lucky that things have gone reasonably well and all signs point to having a living baby in a few short weeks.
I feel lucky to have had the chance to be pregnant. I’ve loved every moment. Okay, the baby foot poking my guts and causing me so much pain I can’t bend over wasn’t the most fun I’ve ever had, but I’m lucky to be able to share that story. I know that not every infertility story ends with a pregnancy or a baby. I feel so lucky to have the experience of being pregnant. I love the quiet moments when it’s just Bubba and I and he’s kicking and rolling about. I watch my belly move and distort and it makes me laugh with pure joy. That’s my son in there. My body is growing my baby boy and that makes me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.