Wow, what a difference 48 hours can make. I feel SO MUCH BETTER. My head feels clearer than it has in a week. I can breath. The sun was out today. The snow has all melted in our back yard. My kids were outside playing today. I had a burst of energy.
I feel ready.
(except that I need to wait until Saturday when my mom can be here)
Waiting for a baby is a funny thing. It makes you really take note of all the things you do over and over again. I keep thinking to myself that I’m possibly doing tasks for the last time before having a fourth child. I rush to get the laundry done so that hampers will be empty when we bring home our new addition. And then, a suddenly they’re all full again and there’s not a new baby yet. I try to keep the house picked up and the floors swept and the beds made and the fridge stocked so that everything will be in ship shape for whoever swoops in to take care of everything so I can go and give birth. But I keep having to do it all again and again.
The mundane nature of my job is just so apparent in my waiting.
But the miracles of my everyday life with these three little ones are also vivid in my waiting.
Hazel negotiating Emmeline through picking up everything on the first floor for me and then bringing me plates of cut up fruit while I work at the computer.
The way Charlie’s face gleams with delight when he feels the baby kick or sees some cute little thing intended for his brother.
Emmeline’s questions about birth and being born. And her desire to yell into my belly at her baby brother.