Yup. Thought yesterday was going to be the day. Cooked some more. Cleaned some more. Payed the bills. Had contractions all day. Marveled at my perfect children. (Seriously, the 5 year old played happily with his action figures by himself while his sister took a 3 hour nap. When does that ever happen?) Woke up this morning still pregnant. Oh well.
The readings at Mass last Sunday seemed particularly appropriate to this period of waiting. Of course, it was the first Sunday of Advent, and Advent is, after all, all about waiting. Specifically, even, about waiting for a baby to arrive. This passage from Matthew really spoke to me:
Therefore, stay awake!
For you do not know on which day your Lord will come.
Be sure of this: if the master of the house
had known the hour of night when the thief was coming,
he would have stayed awake
and not let his house be broken into.
So too, you also must be prepared,
for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.
The anticipation, the excitement, the need to be prepared. My mother keeps telling me I need to rest, but I’m not tired. I feel almost manic. I figure no matter how much rest I get now, I’m still going to be exhausted once the baby is born. And I want to be able to rest and snuggle with him as much as possible when he gets here. And I’m getting plenty of sleep at night, so I’m not running myself ragged.
But I am tackling chores that I know won’t get done for many more months. Not because I feel like I have to, but because I want to. Like scrubbing out my kitchen trash can. I couldn’t tell you the last time I did that. It’s not something that I sit around thinking I need to do. But I saw it needed to be done, and I had the time, energy and inclination to do it, so I did.
I really am excited to meet this little guy. The two children I have met are so different from each other and so wonderful in their unique ways. I can’t wait to get to know this little one too. I can’t wait to see how he fits into the family and how his siblings respond to him. I can’t wait to smell him, and snuggle him, and nurse him, and hold him while he sleeps. I can’t wait to sit with him by the fire while we celebrate Christmas in those magical newborn days. I can’t wait to be surrounded by the wonder of a tiny new life at a time when the whole world is celebrating the birth of Our Savior. Perhaps I’ll be blessed with some sense of the awe Mary must have felt on that first Christmas.
