About the time yesterday that I was ready late afternoon to tackle my cleaning to-do list with all the gusto that a 34.5-week-pregnant woman can, I glanced down and stared aghast at the swollen mess that had claimed my feet. Sure, my toes looked similar, and I guess the calves were probably mine, but who had come and replaced my ankles and feet with these expanding, painful ones? I’ll be honest, the swelling was so bad yesterday that the top layer of “skin” on my feet was raised about half an inch and was “jiggly” with the extra fluid building up underneath. Yuck! Priorities shifted, as I reluctantly sought an elevated position and texted several friends comments regarding my mini pity-party.
“17 more days,” I held onto, as my girth rooted me in the back of the recliner.
This morning, the countdown has reached sixteen. Sixteen more days until labor, delivery, and baby snuggles. Sixteen more days in which one could legitimately throw herself some pretty spectacular pity parties. However, that’s not my point this morning.
This morning, I’m overwhelmed and amazed. Overwhelmed by the daunting task of parenting. Even last night, David and I decided that we would probably switch from disposable to cloth diapers to save money (this seems like a weighty decision, so don’t laugh). Amazed at the incredible journey up ahead and excited about holding Abigail soon (though if my feeble attempts at swaddling a teddy bear last night are any indication, I’m going to need a lot of practice).
I invite you to journey with me into the blubbering, crying mess of motherhood. Considering how I generally handle transition in my life, I’m assuming that I will not be one of those “calm, cool, and collected” mothers. Quite the opposite. I assume that I will sob when I haven’t showered in days. I assume that I will probably lose sleep over insignificant childcare decisions. I assume that my postpartum body may freak me out a bit.
Still, I invite you to come along. Come journey with me, as our Father God illuminates the daunting way ahead. Breathe deeply with me, as I hold my breathe in expectation of what He is going to do with this mess of me.
Motherhood in sixteen short days…