Preparing space. Space in my heart. Space in my relationships. Space in our house. Space in my work. All for a baby girl.
Never in my life, have I prepared so much for what is about to happen. Probably because it so profoundly affects this little person that has been very steadily growing below my heart these last 9 months. And I want to do it right. I do. I want to plan. And before you laugh at me or tell me that planning goes out the window with a baby… resist the urge. This is all I know to do.
By the way, 9 months is a long time. It is a marathon.
After I get home from meetings I spend my evening organizing things, like that drawer in our bathroom that collects junk. Then I worry about labor. Quickly I realize that my greatest worry is about the greater task of parenting: what if I screw this up?? I will. I know I will. What if I give her a complex? Oh, I will. I know I will.
Next, I go in her room and organize her lotions and bows and toys because it is something I can control, something I can get right. Then another question comes to me, what if I can't answer her questions? I won't be able to all of the time. I know I won't. OR worse what if I can't protect her? I won't be able to all of the time. I know I won't.
On the brink of being someone's Momma (any day, really), I am both in awe of my body and this little life that grows so rapidly and in fear of my ability to actually do this. Because its for a lifetime, and that is a really long time. Its a million marathons that keep coming, and I want them to… I want to cherish her. I want to show her things. I want her to ask questions I have never thought to ask. I want her to love living her life!
The best thing I can do now is prepare, organize, obsess, worry...knowing that God so lovingly prepares for our place in the world and then so fearfully allows us to live in it with very little control of what we might grab a hold of… even if it is clean, organized, and child proofed.
Which leaves me full of an anxious joy and brimming over with anticipation as we prepare to meet our little one. Come soon, sweet girl, we already love you more than life itself.
Loving you is something I know we can do. We already do…so much.