Kiss Your Miracle

Like most expecting mothers, I’m currently a blend of excitement and anxiety when I think about our new baby. After struggling with infertility, I’m still in awe of the fact that I’m pregnant again. The baby is to the point now where it feels like he’s always kicking and stretching inside my body, and it makes me wish for a window on my belly so I could sit and watch exactly what he’s doing. Who will this little man be? Will he be calm and laid back or a ball of energy like his big sister? Will he look like his daddy or will he have red hair like me? I can’t wait to find out. Every day I wake up thinking that we’re one day closer to his official birthday.

The other half of me is grateful his due date is still six weeks away. I haven’t started decorating the nursery yet. It’s still an office/guest room/workout room, and I have a lot of organizing to do before our son arrives. I also sometimes think about how Sky wants my constant, undivided attention, and I start to get panicky. Having a little brother will probably be the best thing for her, but how will it be for me as she adjusts to him, especially when I’m sleep deprived? When I think about Sky’s newborn days, I remember my amazement over the fact that she really was my little girl, but I also remember being so tired I could barely function. We both cried our share of tears those first few months. Will it be that way again, only more so since I now have a high-maintenance toddler too?

There is only one thought that calms me down when my anxiety level rises: my mom. She plans to stay with us for a while in February after the baby comes, and when I remember that, my worries fade a bit. It’s not just that she’s great at entertaining Sky, though she is. It’s also not just that she raised seven kids of her own, though her experience is a big help. It’s that she’s my mom and I miss her.

I’ve been away for my share of Christmases over the years, but I’ve never been as homesick as I am this year. It’s my family’s first Christmas without my dad, and it hurts that I won’t be there. My mom is a busy woman, and when we finally do connect for a chat on the phone, it seems like we only cover one or two things before our time is up. But if all goes as planned, my mom will be at my house in about a month and a half. I know I’ll be bleary-eyed and overwhelmed. But I also know that she won’t let me get too serious about it all. Somehow we’ll still spend plenty of time hanging out in the kitchen, chatting and drinking coffee and eating her favorite food (plain rice cakes with peanut butter – doesn’t sound like much, but the more you eat them, the more addicting they are). I can’t wait until she’s here, when we’ll have no agenda beyond taking care of the kids and being together.

She’ll also probably end up doing the laundry and cooking dinner now and then (God bless her!). She’ll make sure I have time to take a shower each day, and to catch a nap, even when Sky is awake. And when I’m dealing with all those crazy post-partum hormones and emotions, she’ll remind me to “unwrap” our new baby and count his little fingers and toes. She won’t let me forget what a miracle it is to welcome a new life, no matter how tired I am. Thank God for mothers! I’m especially grateful for mine.