It is nice to be home.
There’s always a next thing to look forward to: a birthday, Christmas, a reunion, a dinner. These next things can be big or they can be small, but they’re almost always there. I can’t recall the last time I didn’t have something approaching on my calendar.
It was a little shocking when, this morning, we realized that our next thing is the birth of our first child. There might be a dinner or a visiting friend, I might even see a movie in a theater, but we won’t be travelling, we won’t be hosting, we won’t be doing any thing until we start playing host to those paying respects to this new person.
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There’s always a next thing to look forward to: a birthday, Christmas, a reunion, a dinner. These next things can be big or they can be small, but they’re almost always there. I can’t recall the last time I didn’t have something approaching on my calendar.
It was a little shocking when, this morning, we realized that our next thing is the birth of our first child. There might be a dinner or a visiting friend, I might even see a movie in a theater, but we won’t be travelling, we won’t be hosting, we won’t be doing any thing until we start playing host to those paying respects to this new person.
It’s nerve-wracking, but also calming. We’ve been so busy this summer preparing and planning and partying and carrying rocks that I don’t think we’ve had enough time to really just appreciate what we’re doing, and what’s coming. I’m hoping the coming weeks will give us the space to do that.
Though, interestingly, today is the day in timeline of Abby’s pregnancy where I was born, meaning, when my mother was as pregnant with me as Abby is with our child today, she went into labor and had me. I’m optimistic we’ll have a bit more time to fully bake the dingus but it just goes to show that we’re down to the wire. It’s coming.
And thank goodness.