I am 38 weeks pregnant today. Two weeks out from our due date, I feel like I'm standing in the doorway of somewhere windy, with my hair and clothes being swept behind me, trying to remain composed. The sun is on my face and components of this experience are sweet and quiet and I'd like to slowly drink them in. I want to go forward through the doorway, and even part of me wants to go back. Anywhere certain on either side of this place. Meanwhile things are subtly getting more sore, more stretched, heavier as I crawl into bed at night, and everyone's voices are getting louder. The tallies of who I see out in public, how close someone they know was to their due date, and how crazy they find my body to be compile into the graphs and charts in my head. I'm not even trying to create them. There's just an automatic pregnant woman human excel program running in there, managing the stats for me. "Great. I'll put you down for 'OMG you're really tiny. I went into labor two weeks before my due date. Good luck.'"
I draw inward because this wind is sticking around. It's gonna be kite-flying weather until it's time to have this baby. Windy, intense, a bit loud. Habits, meditations, mantras and repetition; they're all my friend. Maybe get out of bed some time. (A kind and important reminder by my husband.) Kiss the dog a thousand times. Perform one of the best rituals known to man; make a lazy breakfast. This means put some form of grains and dairy and maybe fruit in a bowl and pour a cold glass of coffee. Oh, sweet coffee. A morning liturgy. I need this liturgy. Maybe you need it too.
Some suggestions for making really great warm-weather coffee at home:
- Use great coffee. (This is not original advice.) Our favorites happen to be our favorite local roaster. We also cold-brewed beans from these guys a few weeks ago and the result was divine. A little luxury for sure.
- If you can remember the night before (I'm personally always thinking about my morning cup), elect to cold-brew it. It's particularly friendly to those long-suffering heartburn victims (holler), kind of this weird magical ever-forgiving method that is impossible to screw up, and just makes really smooth, wonderfully round coffee. There are a lot of coldbrew recipes out there these days (it seems very few shops even make iced coffee other ways at this point), so check out what the interwebs have to offer. An old favorite of mine for a sweet cup is this recipe, but this Spring we invested in this amazingly convenient contraption. When all else fails, you can literally put grounds in a jar with water over night and accomplish this delightful outcome.
- Get crazy. Shake it up with some caramel on a really low morning, or buy a weird kind of alternative milk to drink it with. This is literally how I've been occupying my time since installing the car seat and packing my hospital bag.
I'm especially inspired by this approach to iced coffee recently. Seems like an easy enough way to help out the earth.
Best of all, a morning glass of iced coffee, clinking and sweating, lifts the fog. For me it helps me hear, "you are nearing the end and beginning of something that will change you forever." I hope it helps you hear what you need to hear too.