Thoughts In Limbo.

May 14, 2013 § 7 Comments

I cried three times on Sunday.

  1. During a video at church of kiddos talking about God, featuring my niece. I had no chance. To curb the onslaught of sobbing threatening to overwhelm me, I had to think about band aids. It worked.
  2. In front of the flower stand at Trader Joe’s when I realized I left our canvas grocery bags at home. Curses, Seattle.
  3. As I read the sweet, sweet card from Kenny & Peanut for my first Mother’s Day.

Guess which of these had anything to do with legitimate emotions and which ones were more hormonal? Yeah, we’ll just pay attention to #3.

It wasn’t that I would have been a wreck had the card simply said “You’re great.Love you.” I would have. But it did have other words that held my gaze and hit me harder than I ever thought they would.
Wife.
Best friend.
Mother.DSC_1304

These are words of great magnitude, immense significance, that always applied to other women. Not me. It’s been almost three years and the word “wife” still gets me. Knowing someone so completely, so intimately, yet seeing “best friend” attributed to me is still an honor.

And now mother. That one still scares me. It’s merit has yet to be tested. So far, the extent of my parenting includes successfully going about my business while not randomly indulging in excess alcohol consumption or picking up a smoking habit, thereby not compromising a healthy environment i.e. womb for Peanut, but I’ve really had nothing much else to do with it. Needless to say, the title has yet to be truly earned.

But I hope the gravity of these words never ceases to level me. The day I take them for granted is the day I lose appreciation for the gifts, stop looking around and taking in the beauty, and forget that it wasn’t always like this. The roads from whence we came often lead us to gratitude for where we’ve arrived. And within a simple card I saw it–what had changed, what’s been gained, what I wouldn’t compromise for the world.

Today is Peanut’s due date. It’s a surreal thought. And soon we will actually know, for the rest of our lives, if it is a boy or a girl. The mystery will be solved, this unknown we’ve lived with for nine months which my dear friend, Kendra, reminded me of in the midst of looming labor that has overshadowed this fact for me. I would have forgotten to really think about these days before we meet.

We will soon introduce ourselves and be a family.

And as others vie for this child to be born in their timing (which keeps me up at night with stress and if they only knew how that, in fact, prolongs the labor process, ahem) I do have to chuckle at how much God isn’t interested in our timing and how happily I have relinquished any control over it. Now the challenge is just ignoring the pressure from others, truly exercising what I’ve believed all along–that I can have the best plan ever for this birth and child’s story, but it’s ultimately out of my hands.

And if I have to turn off my phone and lock myself up in my house in order to maintain my state of zen, I just might (which would probably be a good decision on more than one level, because I currently fit in just about no clothing I own).

I know these particular posts will come to an end soon. Peanut will arrive and then this space will have some “mommy blog”-ness to it, which I’m not super excited about because I don’t really like stories about other people’s children (but I’ll keep that in mind and try to filter through to just the positively entertaining ones without exploiting the poor thing. A bad blowout? I’ll probably refrain. But an anecdote with me as the embarrassed receiver of grace? Probably too good not to write about).

Thank you for sharing this season of life with me. I’m in no position to fully grasp what it means to have this child outside of my body, but it’s been fun capturing Peanut’s journey so far and sharing the ups and downs with you.DSC_1307

It’s not over. LIKE I SAID, Peanut’s not even here yet, but I know the clock is seriously ticking and all will change. You might meet ThisChickadee: Harried Basketcase the next time I post. But only time will tell. Until then, I’ll work on preparing lucid posts and enjoyable material sans breakdowns.

This isn’t goodbye. You might hear from me Thursday, swollen and feeling bigger than a beluga. Or it might be quiet around these parts for just a little bit. But I’ll be back. We’ll be back. Because this blog has grown into more than just any ol’ blog. I love communing with you, hearing from you, and having a place to hold on to memories.

And boy, we’re just getting started.

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