Tuesday, May 3rd, 2016
These are not the days for shopping, brunch, and hiking. These are not the days for company and hosting and busy evenings. Those days came in the last month and filled the waiting with beautiful memories. Now they are gone and it is time.
Time for a quiet house, slow days, and leisurely walks. Time for leaning over the kitchen table, or the counter, or the bed and breathing deep through the slow, early process of labor. It’s time for the faraway look, the tired eyes, and the emotions all on my sleeve.
Each day holds expectation, disappointment, and surrender. Each moment floats between what our life has been and what our life will become, not firmly attached to either, just connecting them for a moment.
Early labor has started over the last two days. The midwives agree that I have probably inherited the birth journey of my mother, which was long, long early labors and short active ones. Since my first baby was posterior I not only had three days of early labor, but also three days of active labor, which they promise me will not be case this time. My daughter is positioned well and patiently waiting.
The hard lessons of my first labor into motherhood were not wasted. I sleep between the breathtaking contractions instead of trying to walk them stronger. I embrace them when they come strong and let go of disappointment when they slow down.
I might be here for hours or I might be here for days.
It’s time to lean in.