I’m not a particularly sentimental person. In fact, Adam might say that I’m not sentimental AT ALL. It is one of the biggest adjustments that we have had to make with one another as husband and wife. My lack of sentimentality made it hard for me to grieve my mom. I had to allow myself to be nostalgic. To sort through her memories and process the feelings that came through. It had to learn to let that untapped part of my psyche get active and help guide this grief journey. By the time we had to face the reality of saying goodbye to George Mason, I was a little better at this; but still had a long way to go. Especially given there weren’t memories and nostalgia to guide the process of grief. But I did it. I wrote, I cried, I dreamed. I cried a lot more. And suddenly there was light peaking through the clouds.
I knew that with this pregnancy, there would be all kinds of emotions to process; most of which I wouldn’t really be able to prepare for. In the beginning, there was a lot of anxiety over whether or not “lightning would strike twice” as we waited for that anatomy scan. Then, there was the initial processing of having another little boy. Imagining all the ways that a little boy would be harder than a girl. All the ways that it would remind us, so directly, of the little boy we didn’t get to bring home. Then we had to fight the anxiety and depression of waiting. To motivate ourselves to prepare for baby. To live life, knowing that the worst could always be a possibility - to organize and implement a nursery, to buy baby clothes, to talk with Audrey about her brother and not taint every conversation with the dark “what ifs” that would inevitably creep in.
Now that we have entered into the last few weeks of waiting, I’m struck by the mourning that I find myself doing. Mourning the last few weeks of Audrey as an only child. Mourning the fact that she is just now going to experience the role of big sister. Mourning the role that George would have played as big brother. Mourning the lack of pictures of my babies all together, and of my family as a whole and complete unit. Mourning the ways that Adam and I will change when there are two babies at home with us - but not three. And in all of this, I find myself being a bit sentimental. I’m holding Audrey a little longer when she gives me her goodnight hug. I’m reading that one more book that she wants before her nap. I’m sitting outside and watching her play, alone, in our yard, and engaging in those little moments as she passes by and includes me into her story. Even with a sore body, a tired mind, and an anxious heart, I’m doing this life with my biggest kiddo and I’m enjoying it while simultaneously missing what we’ve had for these last five years.
Over the last week or so, I can feel my body making the changes needed to deliver this sweet boy into the world. We are at 36 weeks today and Harry is measuring perfectly, yet my body is starting the eviction process. I know that it could be a full 4 more weeks before we meet this kid, but it could also be any day. So as I sit in the mourning and the sentimentality of our family’s changing dynamics, I’m also preparing for this baby to be home with us; an equally exciting and terrifying idea. As best I can, I’m laying all these big feelings at the feet of my Savior, but knowing that even when I’m incapable of handing over my worries Jesus has already taken them from me. He is here in this countdown. Settled deep in my heart and holding me tight.
“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen.” -
1 Peter 5:6-11
