I am perched on the final pages of this pregnancy. The end of an incredible book- when you know that as you close that last page you will cry and miss the characters. I will miss pushing on my swollen and huge belly and feeling a stretch and push back. I will wonder what my baby needs instead of having it provided to her by biology and perfect design. I will know. Her eyes, her little bird lips and how her arms startle. The questions will all be answered. The birth story written. The sisters met. The Mama of two known. The end.
And still, just the start. Right now I know nothing, I wonder if her name will fit. If she will fit out. How our story will go. How Noele will adjust. How I will adjust. I am nearly unrecognizable to the girl I was before I had Nolie…. how will Harbor shape me, new again? How different will this birth be? Will it be redemption and renewal? Will it be trauma and reminders of my fears about my body? Will it change everything, like Nolie did?
We are ready.
This time is so different. Last time I didn’t feel ready till every diaper was folded and each onesie was washed. The pictures on her nursery wall were hung with a level and endless birth books had been read. This time I know I am ready. Just so ready to meet her. Hold her. Kiss her and introduce her to the most incredible sister she could ever dream of.
The diapers aren’t all purchased, let alone washed. The clothes are clean enough and stuffed into a drawer. I know she will be fed, I still have milk today. I am ready.
This is all over the place, I feel all over the place. Aching to hold Nolie a million more times as just my only. But knowing that she is already growing out of only and into oldest. Sweet Harbor could come next week or nearly a month from now, I just have to wait on my body.
The end is here and still undefined and the beginning is imminent but so unknown. I am floating in my oldest crooked teeth and wispy hair, long fingers and round cheeks. Her fairy wings and jumping about. I am sitting on the porch watching a girl who can run, talk, pretend and tease. Not even a shadow of that tiny baby who slept only in my arms for months on end. She is grown and growing, only a baby when she nurses- her little lips still part and fall off of me just like they did the first time she ate.
Our oldest is as ready as she can be for something so abstract and still so real. It will happen, now or later. We are ready.
We love you. We are so excited to see you, hold you, meet you and pour ourselves out to you. You are the change, the growth and the illustration of how our family has been born. We are ready for another life in our home. You are a missing piece and I can’t wait till you fill the arms and hearts up of everyone in this place. You will be a light, a blessing, a joy, a hope and a part of me that I can’t wait to meet.
I love you so much,