I have never been in labor.
Never grown new life in my womb.
Never known the aches and pains of my body's expansion.
But from what I've learned from listening and observing, the last trimester is often the hardest.
First trimester symptoms return, the weight of the extra poundage begins to take its toll, swelling seems to be a part of every day life, and sleeping -- fahggettaboutit.
But beyond the physical symptoms, the psychological change of longing for this little life to COME SOON and being TERRIFIED of taking care of that precious bundle for the REST OF ITS LIFE looms heavy upon a mother's heart.
I think maybe I am there.
In the psychological holding pattern
With no guarantee of when it will happen or how old the child will be or if we can handle it and will they like us.
Sometimes I feel like I am living someone else's life complete with a new home and fenced in back yard. Add in filling bedrooms with beds and dressers and child-lock proofing potentially hazardous places around the home, and I wonder sometimes who I am.
I have lived so long in this couple phase of life that in spite of longing to multiply the family for the past four years, now that the reality is closer either via foster care and/or adoption, I find myself more terrified of the unknown than I expected.
So on Mother's Day as I lounged on the beach watching my love fly his kite as he trains for kite boarding in the ocean one day, rejoicing with him in the moment he finally found HIS holding pattern with the kite, I looked around me.
I saw a beach gear laden mom alone with her two toddlers struggling to walk back to her car with a tearful 2-year-old lagging behind and a 5-year-old forging ahead. I observed a middle aged dad giving up his afternoon to play with the kids on the beach so his wife could relax. All around me I witnessed the ebb and flow of family life.
And there I sat alone.
And instead of feeling sorry for myself, I basked in the moment. The time that I had to myself to sit, to read, to close my eyes and feel the wind on my face, to take a Sunday afternoon just watching my love enjoy his new hobby and we could just be....
Because while I will love the next season....the one right now where it is just the two of us, young and carefree, is fleeting...
Yeah...this is definitely a weird transitional season...
but in spite of it all....I am thankful.
What are you thankful for in your current season, even if you are waiting or hoping for the next thing? What do you do to combat that TRANSITIONAL nervousness/fear? How do you overcome the "holding pattern" syndrome? I would love to hear your advice and/or feedback.