Anticipation
I've had a post rolling around in my head since I started my leave back in the last week of April. I've even started typing it out a time or two, but it seems things keep moving before I have the chance to really put anything out.
But we're closing in on the inevitable day of Sylvester's arrival, and it may be even longer after that before I get to posting much so I'm going to do my best to get something out before another day escapes.
Officially, we're now just 4 days away from Sylvester's due date. I suspect he'll be taking his time like his big sister did. Had a checkup yesterday and his head's still pretty high up and he's swimming around. Apparently, I provide a pretty comfy residence for a little life form.
For some time now, I've been getting the supportive comments from those around me that they hope he comes soon, or I'm almost there. I appreciate the sentiment, but the reality is, I have a somewhat different perspective. Apart from the fact that he'll keep growing - and we all know what that means when the day actually comes - I'm not in a big rush to get him out.
You see, for me at least, pregnancy is the easy part. Yes, I'm tired, and it's frustrating at times being limited in what I can do. But I also know what's coming. When we were awaiting Tweetie's arrival, my biggest worry was not labour and delivery, but how I'd make out with caring for her after she arrived. I'd done some reading, but I knew that real life is rather more, well, real. And, as I'd expected, it was tough. In fact, harder than even I had imagined. I remember sharing with a colleague that I caught up with in those first weeks that this was the hardest thing I had ever done. (I was also comforted to hear that she'd felt pretty much the same with her own two girls.)
This time, of course, it's no longer a fear of the unknown. I know what's coming. And I know a whole lot more than I did the first time around, by which I hope to make at least some things easier. But I've also got a toddler to keep track of, nurture, love and nourish. I don't fear 'not having enough love', as I've heard it expressed by others. But I do fear not having enough time, maybe not enough sanity to express that love. Honestly, with the ups and downs and especially post-partum depression, the first round was almost the end of me, though ironically it was the same little life at the center of all that that kept me hanging on.
And there's a quiet part in my soul that's terrified of how I'll get through this time. I know God's grace will be with us again, as always, and we've got some marvelous friends lifting us up in prayer. But, as long as Sylvester's happy and healthy in there, I'm content to wait a little longer to start this next adventure. And if we can get just a little further on things like bathroom renos, that's a bonus.
But we're closing in on the inevitable day of Sylvester's arrival, and it may be even longer after that before I get to posting much so I'm going to do my best to get something out before another day escapes.
Officially, we're now just 4 days away from Sylvester's due date. I suspect he'll be taking his time like his big sister did. Had a checkup yesterday and his head's still pretty high up and he's swimming around. Apparently, I provide a pretty comfy residence for a little life form.
For some time now, I've been getting the supportive comments from those around me that they hope he comes soon, or I'm almost there. I appreciate the sentiment, but the reality is, I have a somewhat different perspective. Apart from the fact that he'll keep growing - and we all know what that means when the day actually comes - I'm not in a big rush to get him out.
You see, for me at least, pregnancy is the easy part. Yes, I'm tired, and it's frustrating at times being limited in what I can do. But I also know what's coming. When we were awaiting Tweetie's arrival, my biggest worry was not labour and delivery, but how I'd make out with caring for her after she arrived. I'd done some reading, but I knew that real life is rather more, well, real. And, as I'd expected, it was tough. In fact, harder than even I had imagined. I remember sharing with a colleague that I caught up with in those first weeks that this was the hardest thing I had ever done. (I was also comforted to hear that she'd felt pretty much the same with her own two girls.)
This time, of course, it's no longer a fear of the unknown. I know what's coming. And I know a whole lot more than I did the first time around, by which I hope to make at least some things easier. But I've also got a toddler to keep track of, nurture, love and nourish. I don't fear 'not having enough love', as I've heard it expressed by others. But I do fear not having enough time, maybe not enough sanity to express that love. Honestly, with the ups and downs and especially post-partum depression, the first round was almost the end of me, though ironically it was the same little life at the center of all that that kept me hanging on.
And there's a quiet part in my soul that's terrified of how I'll get through this time. I know God's grace will be with us again, as always, and we've got some marvelous friends lifting us up in prayer. But, as long as Sylvester's happy and healthy in there, I'm content to wait a little longer to start this next adventure. And if we can get just a little further on things like bathroom renos, that's a bonus.
posted by Coastal at
1:35 p.m.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home