It’s 4:30 in the morning. I should be sleeping, but I’ve been up for the last two hours counting contractions. You would think on my fourth time, I would know if this meant baby was imminent or if just as the boys are waking up, and the day actually starting, they’ll subside and I’ll be exhausted from a sleepless night. I don’t.
At 2:30 when I woke up to go to the bathroom with a stomachache, I was hopeful I’d fall right back asleep, groggy and disoriented from what sleep I’d been able to get already. Then I couldn’t get comfortable, and every 10 minutes or so my stomachache would come back, at 2:30 in the morning it took me a minute to put the pieces together. There is a moment of panic, at least there has been with me for all four thus far, where when contractions come regularly every 10 minutes for over an hour, you freak out and wonder if you should sound every alarm, wake everyone in the whole house, and prepare for a baby to arrive in the next few minutes. Thankfully logic prevailed and I just counted quietly to myself.
I’ve been having contractions all week, but after getting over the initial annoyance of not being able to fall back to sleep at 2:30am, I’ve started to enjoy these last couple hours. With three tiny tornadoes running around during the day, whether my contractions were 10 minutes or an hour apart, I couldn’t tell. There was simply too much going on, so stopping to really wonder if a baby was gonna be here soon just couldn’t compute. In the black of night however, when the entire house is quiet with sleep, laying next to Kevin who is peacefully oblivious to his sweet daughter making her presence known, realizing that I’m the only person in the world that is aware of a sweet little life contemplating a May 6th birthday…. is a feeling impossible to describe. There is a joy in the purity of it all, an anxiety in the unknown held mostly at bay by the undercurrent of peace from my faith that ultimately God’s got this. It’s how I can sit down and write a blog in the wee hours of the morning. Pacing, wondering, worrying, hoping, dreaming, with the possibility of waking said three tiny tornado’s, didn’t seem like a solid plan. However, tossing/turning in bed was only making Kevin restless, so I figured if we had a long day ahead, at least one of us being rested seemed like a good idea.
I honestly don’t know if we’ll meet our sweet daughter today, or if as the world wakes and distractions arise these contractions will subside into the background once again, only to keep me up tomorrow night. I don’t know if I’ll get a nap in today to address the effects of a sleepless night, or if this is just the beginning of many sleepless nights. Irregardless of the outcome, I’m thankful for these few hours…. for the quiet, for the peace, to let it settle in to the deepest part of my brain, what an INCREDIBLE process will commence in the coming hours or days. Letting it wash over my understanding what a blessing and honor it is to get to play this role. I’ve gotten to partner with God in creating LIFE, to bring forth His creation into this world. Not only that, but to finally (after 7 years of mothering) have the beginnings of an understanding of the magnitude of what this even means. To have had a glimpse into the stages of mothering that exist, and understand there is NO END to the surprises this little one could throw our way, and to feel an excitement in the face of that adventure, a hope filled anticipation. To acknowledge how far I’ve come in these last 7 years, giving thanks to God for the grace, patience, discipline, and faith He has grown in me over the years, while still asking and NEEDING so much more to continue down the road He’s placed me on. Acknowledging I’m on His time, and always have been, and giving myself over to being able to enjoy watching how skillfully He can manage even the most complex of details is a new experience all together, and for that I am thankful.
By 6:30a, the quiet morning fog which had blanketed much of the backyard was starting to lift…. So peaceful, I had to try and snag a pic of it.
You don’t have to text/Call/whatevs…. wondering where I’m at in the process…. you will know when we do. I just wanted a space to remember this quiet morning, and the feelings, and thoughts that went with it. Love you!