This is the third go around.
Infinitely blessed, finitely programmed, I am anxiously awaiting sweet Ada. Coell and Hannah have been delightful.
A challenge, to say the least.
It’s so cliche to say I’d die for them. But I would. I’d die a hundred times over if need be just to give them one more breath. I never expected that. But what I expected even less was that in coming to know them, I’ve discovered me.
No one told me that having children helps redefine you. No one told me that I’d have to reinvent parts of myself to fit my new role.
You have to get creative. You can’t lose who you are just because who you have produced another being, another life. You have to rediscover how to be you.
I wonder what Ada will teach me. I am inherently impatient, no matter how I try to convince myself I’m not, and no matter how I attempt to retrain myself to be less so: I am impatient. (Self-help books are motivational for me, but unfortunately, leave impressions as lasting as popsicles in a Tennessee July) Waiting to know her is torture.
With each child, my musings have evolved. With Coell, I wondered how big he would be, what color his hair and eyes would be, and would he have all ten fingers and toes?
With my Hannah, would she be as smart as her big brother? Would she sleep through the night (oh, please, PLEASE sleep through the night)?
With Ada, I wonder how she will change me. Have I become self-absorbed? I’d like to think just more self-aware. It’s invigorating to watch your children grow and change, to find out who they are. It’s startling to recognize how they change you and help (or force) you to grow, without warning or apology. And the most fascinating part is that you don’t realize it’s happening; you only catch it in retrospect.
Maybe what fascinates me so is knowing that I am still on the journey that I am witnessing in their lives. Two journeys, parallel, but suspended in different segments of time.
We are on the journey to self discovery. They don’t teach you this stuff in the million and one books for expectant mothers. It’s just a free tip from a VERY expectant mother. You’re welcome.
In the words of one of my favorite singers of all time:
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part.
Come on, Ada Gray. Mama’s ready, sweet girl.