Yes, it's that time of year again. My house looks like it's having an identity crisis. Plump orange pumpkins are now fighting for air amidst boxes of red and green. Soon, my beloved fall decorations will be wrapped, tissued, and stuffed in a box until next year. My leafy garland will be replaced with evergreen, my pumpkins replaced with tiny Christmas trees, and my rock hard candy corn will finally be dumped and replaced with Christmas M&Ms. I love my fall decorations and am always sad to see them go. Although I love the magic that goes along with decorating for Christmas, I'll admit, like everything else around the holidays, it gets a little out of hand. After a full day's worth of untangling mini lights, rummaging for the right extension cord, and straightening branch after branch after branch of evergreen, I'm usually tempted to keep the Christmas cheer in my house until Valentine's Day. I used to have a neighbor that did that. Everything would stay but the lights, which would be replaced with pink ones in order to accurately celebrate V-Day. I used to think she was crazy, but maybe she was more practical than I thought...
This year, I have the advantage of taking on a different strategy when it comes to Christmas decorating. Instead of attempting to tackle the abundance of rubbermaids in a single day during Thanksgiving break, I can work at it a little at a time. This, I've decided is a perfect way to spend these days at home, especially since I'm getting used to working in 15-30 minute increments. The other day, while Cruz lounged in his swing, I strung garland and lights on my front porch. The next day, while he napped, I carefully adorned my fireplace mantle with some greenery. And today, during some tummy time, I filled glass vases with ornaments. Piece by piece is my strategy this season.
Our Christmas tree, however, will be saved for last. Since we started dating, Beau and I have made a tradition of decorating the Christmas tree together. We usually make some appetizers, pour some kind of fancy drink, and sort through more than two decades worth of Christmas ornaments. A history lesson of our childhoods and relationship together always seems to unfold during this time...a time I can't wait to share with our son this year.
Christmas is about traditions, and I am so excited relive the old, as well as write some new with our little Cruz.
Baby J,
Well, it's official. Here we sit just one day before your due date, aka, supposed-to-be-birthday. October 5. A day that's been circled on our calendar and etched in our minds for forty long weeks. Will you actually be born on your due date, well, that is up for debate. According to statistics, only 5% of babies actually arrive on their due date. Not too promising, especially for a woman who just returned from the doctor's office with not a whole lot to report. If you hold out for another week, we get a skype date on Monday and a likely induction to follow. The good news? My doctor, who I love, will probably deliver you if you go that long. The bad news? Another week without you here. Another week of waiting.
Since I've never done this whole pregnancy/labor/delivery thing, I'm feeling a little perplexed today. I'm a studier. I like to be as prepared as possible for the unexpected, whether it be teaching in the classroom, packing a suitcase, or going to a foreign place. This whole pregnancy thing is about as foreign as it gets, yet, I feel as underprepared as I can possibly feel. I'm learning that although it is nice to have the floor mopped, the pantry stocked, and clothes put away before I go into labor, none of that really matters in the end. What matters is a healthy baby, a healthy momma, and a strong epidural ;).
I know I’ve been saying it throughout my pregnancy, but yesterday was surreal. It was just one of those days. It was the weekend before my due date. The past few weekends have been special, as they’ve been spent at home for fear of traveling too far from the hospital. I’ve had lots of time to prepare, to reflect, and most importantly, to cherish these final little moments of your dad and I. Although we are both more than ready to welcome you into our lives, I know in the end, the last few weeks of waiting have been time I will look back on and be thankful for.
Yesterday was beautiful outside. It was cool in the morning, but gradually reached a temperature perfect for breathing in the fresh air of fall. Mom, Dad, and Taylor stopped by in the afternoon and after the boys went to Lowes, Mom and I sat outside together. I laid in the grass and we watched my tummy shift from side to side, took some belly pictures, and dreamed about a little boy, dressed in blue, wrapped in cozy knits, lying on a blanket beside us. We talked about so much, but mainly, we soaked in the sun and soaked in the utter disbelief of a new baby about to join our family.
Later, after they went home, after I sat in my recliner to watch my routine Sunday night TV, I stopped and thought about how completely ‘un-routine’ my life is right now. I thought about the afternoon, about my talk with Mom, and my simple moment outside watching you squirm and nudge from side to side. I’ve had so many emotions throughout this pregnancy and last night was a freight train of them. I felt a little sadness, that soon, I won’t feel your feet push against my tummy. A little fear, wondering if I am strong enough and mature enough to be a mom. Worry, that I have no idea what I’m getting myself into, with labor, delivery, and all that is to come after. Nostalgia, of days spent lying in the grass, talking with mom about simple things like shopping, and homework, and Barbies, and boyfriends. And finally, amazement, of where this life of mine has led and what is soon to come.
So...all I can do now is trust. Trust that although we are impatient, a little disappointed, and slightly worried, you will come when the time is right. Trust that I have a doctor who knows what is best, even if I don't. Trust that my superwoman strength will surpass my emotional tendencies. Trust that God will mold my feet into the shoes of motherhood with grace and ease.
Happy October. Happy birth month, Baby J. I have always loved this month for so many reasons. I love the weather, the colorful leaves, the soft hoodies and comfy socks, the smells and tastes of comfort food, and the feeling of 'home.' This year, October will take on a whole new meaning for us. Soon, we get to meet you. Soon, we get to bring you home. Soon, I get to touch that little foot that's been playing hard-to-get for weeks now. And soon, we get to make you a part of our lives. Forever.
Soon, little pumpkin.
P.S. I keep saying that this is the last belly shot I will be taking.
Saturday, Beau and I had breakfast together at Morg's, this fantastic little hole-in-the-wall diner in downtown Waterloo. It's a big hit with the locals, and, well, after about a decade of calling the Cedar'loo' home, it's about time we start acting like locals. On a typical morning, there's a line standing outside of Morg's. Today was a typical morning. To eat a little sooner, we sat at the bar facing the open kitchen and watched the staff fry eggs to perfection, pour pancake batter into plate-sized portions, and roast pot after pot of java. We sat in sweatpants and shared each other's hashbrowns, pancakes, and ham like we did back in college. It was that sleepy eyed, greasy kind of love you only get sitting in front of a cooler established in 1960. It was sweet moment, and the biscuits and gravy were delicious.
On the way home, Beau asked what I wanted this weekend.
"I want soup, cider, and pumpkins...and a baby." I replied.
Well, it's Sunday night and I can tell you I got three out of the four. And I'll bet you can guess which one I didn't quite get accomplished.
Yes, another Sunday night without my little peanut. Another Sunday night watching the Bears without a little cub snuggled up beside us. Another Sunday night preparing for another week of school. The list goes on. Two days before my due date, anxious doesn't begin to describe how we are feeling right now. I turned the calendar over to welcome October and saw three little words that completely define this month for us. Our due date. I can't believe we've made it to October, the month that will change our little life forever. If I only knew what day...
So, although there was no baby this weekend, there was October.
It came in the form of a stockpot of potatoes, celery, and onion boiling on the stovetop. A hot bowl of potato soup, a cold Sam Adams (for the Beau of course), and some Asiago cheese bread in front of the TV watching the Hawks defeat Joe Pa once again.
It came in the form of chocolate chip cookies. Chewy, gooey, chocolate chip cookies that taste like heaven dunked in a glass of milk.
It came in the form of a travel mug filled with homemade cider, a lost offering check, and a banjo and yukalaylee playing All Creatures of Our God & King.
It came in a walk through a park, a handful of gummy bears, and a visit from family.
And it came in the form of a pumpkin.
Maybe two pumpkins.
October is here and before this month is over, we will have another little person in our lives. A little baby boy that will change our lives forever. It's not every day one gets to say that.
