Blaaaaah. I greatly dislike mirror pictures.
But, for the sake of memory, here you go.
Taken a week ago at 38 weeks.
**
It's like everything wells up inside of me until I can't stand not to write it down.
I don't know why I put it off sometimes.
Maybe to feel this surge, this drive to type letters and numbers and punctuation marks.
To know there's nothing else I should be doing besides
writing.
Spring arrived this morning, with its snow-frosted mountains and budding trees and even a few daffodils.
Being so close to welcoming a child brings a spirit of living like I've never felt before.
Everything is slowed down.
Everything is on purpose--even the afternoons on my bed, reading and writing or staring out the window.
I've been having crazy dreams about being a bad mom.
Where I actually have twin boys instead of one girl and only one of the twins likes me and the other one is always lost somewhere.
Or where the doctor calls me up and says he thinks Addie should come this Friday. Yes, that should be a good day. Why don't we deliver on Friday? It's your dad's birthday and everything.
Or where the baby comes but she can talk right away which weirds me out but is actually sort of awesome, but she also throws up continually. Throwing up when she's not saying things like, "Mom, I think I'm ready for my nap," even though she's days old.
These days I eat because I know I need the calories and so does the baby.
I eat mostly Eggos. With butter-flavored "syrup" and everything.
And they are so good every time.
Everything besides Eggos (and maybe tapioca pudding) is disenchanting.
I guess I still like apples and grapefruit too.
And water.
So much water.
With three ice cubes and in my big, white plastic cup.
I talk about how we thought Addie was coming two Fridays ago--because my amniotic fluid was low.
My backpack was packed with Nikes, socks, underwear, a short-sleeved shirt, a long-sleeved shirt, and Starbursts (the all-red pack), among other necessities like glasses and Altoids.
We thought we were ready to come home with a baby in the car seat.
And then everything was normal again.
No need to be induced.
Except everything wasn't normal because I wasn't actually holding my daughter and I had thought I would be. That day. I thought that March 9th would mark the beginning of the rest of my life.
But it didn't.
It was still just the two of us.
And you know what? I'm glad.
Because that wake-up call gave us a trial run. We chose to listen to Jackson 5 on the freeway, a decision I would gladly make again; it seemed to fit the mood. But we were so nervous and obnoxiously chatty but silent at the same time. And I felt like I had lost my mind because I couldn't remember normal things and my eyes looked frantic and I couldn't stop my legs from bouncing up and down.
So hopefully we're calmer when it really happens.
But maybe we won't be.
Because it's all so exciting and completely life-altering and
we have no idea how it's actually going to go down.
And so until Addie-girl comes and I get to put on her first satin headband (the ultrasound tech says Addie has hair!), I will continue breathing and learning and wondering. Because I think that's what the Lord had in mind for me all along.
Give Claire time to learn, then make her think everything's going to change, then bring her back to the basics of what's simple and beautiful and true in life.
Let her spirit prepare to be a mother so when the time comes, she'll know she's ready.
"There are only three things you need to let go of:
judging, controlling, and being right.
Release these three and you will have the whole mind and twinkly heart of a child."
--Hugh Prather