What Can Happen in Eight Weeks
Last year during Advent, I really thought a lot about waiting for a particular baby to be born. Advent felt sad and hopeful all at the same time. I revisited some of my entries from then and could feel the sadness we had around that time. I remember that first cycle failing as winter was setting in. Somehow as the cycle fails and the nights get darker and colder, it really helps you feel the melancholy.
And yet even as I wrote those entries, I thought we'd already have a baby by this time, and even as I know I thought that, I can only feel glee about Cricket dancing around inside me right now. Because really, that's what Cricket does-- Dance around inside me. I'm talking figuratively and literally, people.
Eight weeks is nothing. Eight weeks is 56 days. A short semester. Two little tiny months.
I feel like it's all the time in the world, but it's tomorrow.
I can't wait to meet this kid. I'm full of prayer and feeling pretty gentle with a lot of people-- strangers, family, friends. I'm exhausted from peeing so much during the night and the stress of the end of a semester and still waiting to hear if I got into the program I want into, but I'm so full of life at the same time. I cry, literally, at the drop of a hat. With no provocation. And then laugh about what a cry baby I am. I can't imagine how our lives will change, but I try anyway. We both walk into the closet that will be Cricket's and pinch the clothes and blankets between our fingers, awed by generosity that has come from our families and friends. And it's not even over! We have another shower! Next weekend! We're some lucky girls. In about eight weeks, more or less, hopefully, this kid will be here tucked up into this winter house with us.
And yet even as I wrote those entries, I thought we'd already have a baby by this time, and even as I know I thought that, I can only feel glee about Cricket dancing around inside me right now. Because really, that's what Cricket does-- Dance around inside me. I'm talking figuratively and literally, people.
Eight weeks is nothing. Eight weeks is 56 days. A short semester. Two little tiny months.
I feel like it's all the time in the world, but it's tomorrow.
I can't wait to meet this kid. I'm full of prayer and feeling pretty gentle with a lot of people-- strangers, family, friends. I'm exhausted from peeing so much during the night and the stress of the end of a semester and still waiting to hear if I got into the program I want into, but I'm so full of life at the same time. I cry, literally, at the drop of a hat. With no provocation. And then laugh about what a cry baby I am. I can't imagine how our lives will change, but I try anyway. We both walk into the closet that will be Cricket's and pinch the clothes and blankets between our fingers, awed by generosity that has come from our families and friends. And it's not even over! We have another shower! Next weekend! We're some lucky girls. In about eight weeks, more or less, hopefully, this kid will be here tucked up into this winter house with us.
posted by Katie at 1:46 PM
5 Comments:
Another shower, and a little gift from your prodigal friends over here...
Let me tell you, it just keeps on getting better and better!
Ditto to nico. It's the best and worst job in the world.
I know exactly what you mean. Wait until it's THREE more weeks. Three. 3. Holy crap.
Wowza! That's wonderful! Just 8 more weeks to go.
You know what I just realized when I read this post? If Baby Girl becomes our daughter, your baby and my baby will be due at the same time. That's kind of crazy! I've been following your pregnancy since you conceived, and all along I might have been following the pregnancy timeline of my own daughter's mother.
That kind of blows my mind.
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