If I could place a sign on my front door right now, it would read: "Please Do Not Disturb. Nesting in Progress."
Now that we have survived all of the hullabaloo surrounding Halloween, Talia's birthday, Thanksgiving, Brooklyn's birthday, Christmas, and a baptism, I can FINALLY take a moment to reflect on the fact that I'm due to have a baby four weeks from now.
My emotions keep swinging between exhilaration and terror. On the one hand, I can't wait to greet the little alien doing gymnastics in my belly. As I unpacked baby clothes yesterday, I couldn't help but grin wildly at the miniscule pink onesies. I'm so curious to meet the tiny girl who will soon grace these outfits. What are her likes, her dislikes? Will she be blond or brunette, don a mound of hair or be bald? Is she as anxious to meet us as we are to meet her?
Yet as morning approached, reason likewise dawned. Four weeks--it's so little time! Let's be honest--it's been a while since I've had a newborn, and I'm not quite sure I remember what to do. There's so much I'd like to get done before life turns topsy turvy. Lately I've been filled with this sense of gratitude and appreciation for our family just the way it is. I love our little home. I love how the kids generally sleep through the night. I enjoy spending time together doing more grown-up activities, whether rappelling or playing games beyond Candy Land. I like not changing diapers. As eager as I am to meet our new baby girl, I want to savor these last moments as a family of five. For while I'm sure we'll eventually love our clan of six even more, there's no doubt that things will change.
On a physical level, I'm likewise torn. It's easy to become discouraged and frustrated by my distorted body. Most nights my back hurts and it's difficult to get comfortable enough to sleep, despite post-holiday exhaustion. In the moments when I have to wake Jason and enlist his help to simply roll over, I often wish that the entire ordeal called pregnancy was over, and I were holding our baby girl!
Yet during the day, I generally feel good. While I've had to swap running for Zumba and weight-training, I'm still fairly active. Even more, I feel this unspoken awareness that I should cherish these last moments of pregnancy, as this babe will likely be our last. When all is said and done, I will have spent three full years of my life expecting. It's difficult and awkward, and sometimes the kicks are downright painful, but they're always amazing. As uncomfortable as pregnancy may be, it seems shameful to spend this last month whining instead of celebrating the miracle of life.
And so here I am, simultaneously wishing the baby here both yesterday and nine months from now. Since I can do nothing to change either, I'll use the wait to catch up, cook, clean -- nest.