[Please note: Sara wrote the blog below well before Amelia was born. She told me on the 27th that it was set, and all I had to do was add the pictures and post it. That didn't happen in the four days before Amelia showed up, or in the week since. I guess we see which Gibson parent will be teaching the little one efficiency and time management. - Josh]
I have gotten much better at waiting and patience, but I’ll admit, it’s never been my strong suit. I also have an incredibly short attention span for any physical ailments. I’m (in)famous for saying that after three days of any illness I am entirely bored. So, at this stage of pregnancy, the challenges are obvious.
I wonder when she is coming. I wonder when my body will return to even remotely recognizable proportions. I wonder when I will stop being driven slightly mad by a nonstop desire to scratch (the newest of pregnancy related surprises). I wonder what part of our To Do list will be left undone if she comes early. I wonder if any of the fun things I’ve scheduled for the next week (Josh’s birthday dinner, a massage, a haircut and book club) will come to pass. I wonder when turning over in bed will not feel like a feat that I feel I deserve applause for. I wonder when I will be able to go 37 minutes without thinking about the bathroom. I wonder if Josh’s prediction of November 19th or my prediction of November 4th will be accurate.
This weekend we put her room together. For the first time in my life, I enjoyed folding and putting away clothes (normally my least favorite task in all of chore-dom). I found myself relishing the big questions like “Is this a 0-3 or 3-6 month sleeper?” Josh put the crib together. I also started to get excited—like I can’t wait to meet her and want to meet her RIGHT NOW excited. Ironically, as I was thinking this, she was moving around so much that I literally could tell you her every move. The notion of “meeting” someone you’ve been this close to is fascinating.
This morning as I walked into work, one of Miriam’s guest said, “About time?” and I said, “Absolutely—anytime. I’m ready.”
In that moment I had a small realization. It isn’t about me. In fact, it will never really be about me again. This is just the beginning of it all. It isn’t about when I’m ready for her to be born, walk, talk, date, drive, graduate or do any other thing she will do. She is her own little person, with her own little clock.
So, I’ve recommitted to enjoying the ride. Its fun to know that people care so much that its rare that a phone call doesn’t get answered or returned. I appreciate how easily I can get a seat on even the most crowded of buses. I value the random conversations I get to have around children, parenting and even labor.
I also know that I will never have these moments with her again—where she is a part of me in such a delicate and miraculous way. To rush through this would be like wanting to rush through any other phase—and some of the best advice we’ve received has been to enjoy every minute for the unique minute that it is.
So, don’t mind my scratching and I apologize to anyone who is stuck behind me on a sidewalk or a stair case. I’m relishing this whole pregnancy thing…trust me.
Tossing away my clock,
sPg
I have gotten much better at waiting and patience, but I’ll admit, it’s never been my strong suit. I also have an incredibly short attention span for any physical ailments. I’m (in)famous for saying that after three days of any illness I am entirely bored. So, at this stage of pregnancy, the challenges are obvious.
I wonder when she is coming. I wonder when my body will return to even remotely recognizable proportions. I wonder when I will stop being driven slightly mad by a nonstop desire to scratch (the newest of pregnancy related surprises). I wonder what part of our To Do list will be left undone if she comes early. I wonder if any of the fun things I’ve scheduled for the next week (Josh’s birthday dinner, a massage, a haircut and book club) will come to pass. I wonder when turning over in bed will not feel like a feat that I feel I deserve applause for. I wonder when I will be able to go 37 minutes without thinking about the bathroom. I wonder if Josh’s prediction of November 19th or my prediction of November 4th will be accurate.
This weekend we put her room together. For the first time in my life, I enjoyed folding and putting away clothes (normally my least favorite task in all of chore-dom). I found myself relishing the big questions like “Is this a 0-3 or 3-6 month sleeper?” Josh put the crib together. I also started to get excited—like I can’t wait to meet her and want to meet her RIGHT NOW excited. Ironically, as I was thinking this, she was moving around so much that I literally could tell you her every move. The notion of “meeting” someone you’ve been this close to is fascinating.
This morning as I walked into work, one of Miriam’s guest said, “About time?” and I said, “Absolutely—anytime. I’m ready.”
In that moment I had a small realization. It isn’t about me. In fact, it will never really be about me again. This is just the beginning of it all. It isn’t about when I’m ready for her to be born, walk, talk, date, drive, graduate or do any other thing she will do. She is her own little person, with her own little clock.
So, I’ve recommitted to enjoying the ride. Its fun to know that people care so much that its rare that a phone call doesn’t get answered or returned. I appreciate how easily I can get a seat on even the most crowded of buses. I value the random conversations I get to have around children, parenting and even labor.
I also know that I will never have these moments with her again—where she is a part of me in such a delicate and miraculous way. To rush through this would be like wanting to rush through any other phase—and some of the best advice we’ve received has been to enjoy every minute for the unique minute that it is.
So, don’t mind my scratching and I apologize to anyone who is stuck behind me on a sidewalk or a stair case. I’m relishing this whole pregnancy thing…trust me.
Tossing away my clock,
sPg
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