Last Wednesday, the ladies in my Bible Study threw me a surprise baby shower. How cool is that? Who gets a baby shower for their dozenth child? I am blessed to be surrounded by a group of folks who recognize the beauty of a new life, no matter what designation has been foisted upon it.
As I sat there, opening little gifts of tiny diapers and sleepers, it suddenly hit me:
I’m going to have a baby.
Did you know it is possible to try so hard NOT to think about something that you actually succeed? I’ve been so determined not to focus on the countdown because I knew it would drive me insane and hey, I just don’t have time for that right now, that I really can’t absorb the fact that I’ve got about four weeks to prepare for this familiar little stranger.
I mean, sure I’ve put on a little weight. I might waddle a little bit for some reason. And the gas bubbles? Sheeewt! They are amazingly strong these days.
But…a baby? Yeah, right. Those days are over. I’m honestly too old. And I don’t even like kids! Oh wait…yes I do.
Should I start thinking about it now? Or a week from now? Two weeks? When is it safe to start dreaming a little about what he’s going to look like and be like? How about labor and delivery? Can I pack a bag yet?
Seriously. It’s just all so theoretical to me. It doesn’t help that I usually go late. Like, as much as ten days late. Oof. Hence my reluctance to indulge my little nesting desires. I figure I’ll need something to do in those overdue days (besides cry).
Still, it keeps coming at me in little bits and pieces. Like the Whos calling to Horton from their dustspeck, there is a little message ascending to my brain that says “I am here! I am here!”
Or maybe more like ”MOTHER, PERHAPS YOU SHOULD BE AWARE OF THE FACT THAT YOU WILL NOT, IN ACTUALITY, BE PREGNANT FOREVER? AND I MIGHT NEED A FEW THINGS ONCE I ARRIVE?”
But twenty-seven more days is a pretty long time, after all. An eternity, really. No need to get all panicky and rush about.
Right?
Posted in Family matters
