10 May 2020

This Last Week

This morning while walking on the beach, feeling the kicks and rolls of our second son, I considered the truth of these last moments of knowing our little guy in this way. 

This is my last week of being his one true Home. I will always be his first Home, but in this life he will discover so many more.

These are the last hours of fully protecting him, providing for him, and sustaining him. The last week of my body fitting snug around his, enveloping his tiny little frame, and cuddling him tightly within the womb. 

These are the last few days of wondering in curiosity what he will look like, sound like, be like... before he becomes so much a part of our lives, it's as if I have already known these things all along.

The last time his little eyes are closed to the wonder of the universe before he is brought out of this cozy space created just for him and immersed into all the Unknown that lay ahead. Soon he will open his eyes for the first time to real light, he will breathe real air, and he will be grasped by real human touch. These are his first moments of awe with the simplicity of life, and surely will not be his last.

Birth is such a mystery in this way. A fully formed human curled one moment inside with all the lingering curiosities of the mother... already so familiar with the tiny movements and gestures, so aware of who he is becoming and intimately connected to him while growing him for 9 months; and yet we do not know each other.

There are so many things I don't know. As I birth my child, how will a new mother be birthed within me? In what ways will my identity change? What will it be like to give my heart fully to another human? Can I possibly love as much as I love now?

These things I know. We will always do our best to invite him into this universe of wonder. To help him know adventure. To guide him, shepherd him, and never assume we fully know him. We were designed to be this child's parents, and that is simply enough. In all my weaknesses and shortcomings, I am enough for you, little one. Come, come. We can't wait to meet you.

1 comment:

  1. This is such a beautiful post, Rebecca. Thank you. I especially like the ending: "Come, come. We can't wait to meet you." That message of welcoming combined with your courage to affirm it, is an enormous gift for your child. That message, delivered early and often, is part, it seems to me, the difference between a life of feeling safe in the world or not. "We are so happy you are here. We've been waiting for you. You belong here with us. You are loved." Beautiful.

    Best to you and the soon-to-be new baby!

    ReplyDelete

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