This may be my last blog entry as the mother of one. All the clothes are washed, separated by size and season, packed neatly into labeled ziplock bags (thanks to the help of my own mother who would probably sterilize the whole house if she could!), I've got my hair and nails freshly done (no crazy postpartum picuires of this momma), I changed the air filter in my house (it was definitely overdue), and just got off my last overnight shift before the baby comes (so there will be no delivering in the crisis center!).
Everyone thinks I am slightly off my rocker for thinking he will be here this week since my due date fluctuates from May 1st to May 5th depending on the method, but in reality, it's Isaiah who will select the day of his birth. So I've focused my strategy (in addition to all the old wives tales of inducing labor) on appealing to him directly. Last night Avi and I serenaded him with an African inspired impromptu incantation: "Four more days and you're coming out (repeat X2), Coming out (repeat X2), Go down the tunnel (repeat X2)!" We may continue the countdown and navigational tips tonight. I think he's turning from his head down, but strangely transverse positioning, to a 'butt up' location. Still no 'drop' but I think he'll be a fast mover like his brother.
Second child brings some logistical challenges around planning delivery. What to do with the older sibs since they are 'banned' from the hospital? My brain is not sharp enough to compute all the contingencies so I put together a few options and I'm just going to expect things to work out as they should.
I start each day wondering if it will be the one whose details I will recount for years to come. "On the day you were born..."
In my middle of the night awakenings I wonder what he will smell like, what it will feel like to feel his tiny heartbeat against my own, and how he will look when he sleeps.
I don't feel nervous or anxious. Neither impatient or passive. I'm just ready. I feel like I did before the Penn Relays (which happen to be this weekend), right after a great warm-up round when the hammer and I were in perfect synchronicity and the powerful feeling of release flooded my brain with endorphins. I also feel like I did in the days before my wedding, when it seemed as if all of creation surrounded me and lent me its strength for the journey. The leaves on the trees whisper peace to my soul, the birds sing in anticipation and celebration, the earth supports and uplifts me with each step, and when I tend to my seedlings in the garden, they reassure me "you're a good mommy, we're ready to go outside now".
As much as the pain labor is considered 'Eve's curse', as with Avi, I feel that somehow I'll be given a voucher to labor naturally with ease and joy.
This is truly one of life's most amazing gifts. The journey has been sweet (as I am already forgetting the agony of 7-8 months of nearly daily nausea and vomiting), and I can see how God designed this process not unlike our own lives: not without adversity and struggle, but greatly rewarded with complexly deep positive emotions when you accept the process and journey for better and worse.
At the end of the day, we are all just trying to live and love freely and deeply, to stay connected with our core and find our unique purpose...and I cherish these moments of pause before major life transitions.
I'm grateful for being able to share this journey with so many friends and family, and I am looking forward to what lies ahead!
Glenda
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