The sun is shining. It’s 52 degrees.
And these days, that’s a big deal. It only stopped snowing here last week and not one thing has been planted in the garden.
As frustrated as I am, I’ve got this weird peace about it right now… though I expect that peace to evaporate any minute with my love for work. But the calm has been nice.
I feel evenly-paced instead of frantic, even without my onions planted yet.
March was huge for our family. Purposely so.
We set a colossal goal for our Essential Oil business and defeated all the odds and achieved it. The hard work will pay off for years and has launched us to meet our next goal. Every family member played a role, (Team Reed) we had a plan and we crushed it. We stayed put Easter Sunday and just celebrated the Resurrection as a family. But whew… I’m still pooped. And super pregnant. Eternally so, or so it feels.
In my exhaustion, I’ve spent the last couple weeks in limbo. Waiting to recover from the exertion, waiting to plant, waiting to give birth… just waiting to even see buds on the trees.
Waiting and looking forward to life.
My belly feels so tight already that I can’t imagine getting any bigger, though I know it’s going to happen. It’s all very real now. The lower back pain, leg cramps and thoughts of experiencing labor once again. I’m really struggling to wrap my head around all that… going thru that again. And, self-described birth guru or not, I’d be lying if I said my heart doesn’t pick up speed when I remember those waves of pain.
Whoever said that you forget the pain of childbirth must have had an epidural. This Momma ain’t forgot nothin’.
This little one is a wild one. Kicking, flipping, punching… Or maybe it’s been eleven years of seemingly constant pregnancy and now every karate chop makes me sick to my stomach. I just want him here. I want this over with and I want my life consumed with the sweet smell of baby once again.
I’m done feeling miserable and want to clean my house in a day and not have to take two days to recover. The children are so excited. In so many ways this feels like more their baby, than mine. They constantly talk to him, telling him how much they want to play Legos with him. They study my belly for signs of those powerful kicks and every day we take a chain off our beautiful paper chain to count down the days ’til his arrival.
Dear Lord, please let him come early.
And fast like the other ones.
In fast, could he just fall out? Like, “Oh, there you are!”.
Even now, as lean forward to type he is squirming in protest. Yes, I’ll be happy to hold him in my arms. But I’ve got miles to go before I sleep. About 11-12 weeks to be exact. An eternity.
For now, I’m prepping the potatoes to plant, we’ll finally till the soil and get the onions in the ground in a few days… I’ll follow up with all my new oil customers and try to keep the heartburn at bay.
I know life is now. Thousands of beautiful moments a day with my little ones, the page turning of a good book, a fresh cup of coffee and the love of my man… it’s a bad habit to find yourself constantly looking forward to better days but…
I’m looking forward to bright green and flowers and the life of this sweet little one going on before my eyes instead of below my skin.
Soon and very soon.