> I’m not an optimist. My dishwasher begins making noise, I automatically insinuate that “there goes 200 hundred bucks to get someone to fix it only to have him tell us we need a brand new one we could’ve gotten for a hundred and fifty”. My husband had only to open the door and find an olive pit stuck in the wiring that was causing the problem. The forecast says snow, I assume our school district will never cancel, and I will be stuck at 7:30 a.m., eight months pregnant on the side of the parkway waiting for a trooper to pull over and dig me out. My Mom says she has a doctor’s appointment, I hear “cancer”. Rich has resorted to telling me that if I were to have a super-hero name, it would be Worst Case Scenario Woman.
Pregnancy brings on a whole slew of pessimistic qualities I never knew I had. I have assumed we will go penniless and be unable to pay our mortgage due to my leave from work. At any given time during the day, I am under the belief that there is something wrong with the baby because she is not moving enough or too much. I have accepted the 46 hour, agonizing labor as my fate based upon nothing other than my opinion that everything I experience must, indeed, be difficult.
Some people may be under the impression that it is much better to resort to this way of thinking because at least you’ll never be disappointed- just pleasantly surprised if something less than catastrophic occurs. I will not judge you if you fall in that category. But, lately, with the arrival of said child quickly approaching, and the reading and re-reading of a book that changed my life ( which you should buy: http://www.amazon.com/Running-Scared-Fear-Worry-Rest/dp/0978556755) I am profoundly struck by the importance of the transformation that comes from the “renewing of my mind”, to “set my mind on things above” and not to “be anxious for anything”. These are the things I want my daughter to believe. So, with that in mind, I am desperately trying to overlook the aches and pains and awkwardness of these last few weeks (this week marks the end of my 31st week!) and focus only on the blessings of the things I am looking forward to in the coming months. Culminated in an on-going list, of course.
I CANT WAIT TO…
1. See my feet without having to bend all the way over
2. Eat tomato sauce without it radiating all the way back up my esophagus
3. Hear my husband sing lullabies to my girl, just like he does for me:)
4. Take Ellie outside for a walk and get a latte while she’s still little enough for me to tote around
5. Take a ridiculous amount of pictures of Ellie doing normal, boring things like every first time parent does
6. Watch commercials or movies or television shows without crying
7. Have conversations without crying
8. Do just about anything without crying
9. Be able to sit straight up in bed in order to get out, not have to roll over and out
10. Have a martini. There, I said it.
11. Plant my garden while Ellie watches from the patio
12. Watch how one little girl brings families together
13. Trade my life for every whimper and whim of the baby for my body back
14. Wear pants without elastic waist bands
15. Purchase clothes without “motherhood” on the tag
16. Hold this little being who’s been growing inside of me for what seems like forever
17. See how God will work out all things for good, because that’s what He promised- and if I want my girl to believe that, she’s gotta learn it from me.
18. Sushi. I will be eating an obscene amount of sushi. Try and stop me.
19. Have a blessed opportunity to have several months off to get to know my daughter and myself as a Mom
20. See who Rich and I will be as parents
I will be adding to the list, and if you can think of things, add them, too. I’m excited to cover these last few weeks with prayers of hope, peace and love as we wait to meet our daughter, but God knows sometimes I need a little help in the optimistic department.