Expecting

I am a girl with expectations. I always have been. Expectations of both myself and of those around me. I expect myself to perform at certain levels. I expect to complete things that I set my mind to. I expect to not let people down and to live up to the things they assume will be true of me. Exhausting at times, but just how I am wired.

Well, here I sit. Three weeks away from my newest son being born. And I am once again full of thoughts and tasks that need addressing. I am nesting, I am reflecting and processing... I am expecting.

It is no mystery to me why people refer to pregnant women with this term. "She is expecting," or "That couple is expecting." They mean the baby, right? Most people do. But that is so far from the complete picture, at least for me.

I have talked enough in recent past about how pregnancy for me is such a different experience. One full of uncertainty and hoping and attempts at faith and trust.... But as I near the end of my third (and mostly likely last) pregnancy, I am full of expectations - of all sorts.

Expecting... to be awake for the delivery and hear my son's first cry. For hubby to be present too and carry Baby to meet me in recovery just as he was able to with Lucas. (For those who may not know, this is a platelet issue, which means it is an anesthesia issue....) To nurse right away, to sleep the first night with him on my chest so I can feel him breathe, to put him in my sling as soon as I can (does that make me a babywearing nerd?), ...

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Expecting... to hold my healthy newborn son in my arms and learn more about this little man who has been doing acrobatics in my abdomen for the last 20+ weeks. To kiss his soft face and tell him how much I already love him and how much more I will love him throughout his and my lifetime. To watch adoringly as hubby does the same. To introduce Lucas to his younger brother as tears of both joy and grief cloud my eyes.

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Expecting... there to be room in my heart for all my boys and to be able to love all of them well, whatever that may look like for each. For my bond with Lucas to only be made stronger as we both learn how to welcome Baby into our lives. To never let Lucas question my love or devotion to him, even as the demands on my time and attention increase. For there to come a day when I can fully love all three of my sons perfectly and completely, holding them and knowing we are all complete as we bask in the Glory of our King.

Expecting... my marriage to grow and deepen and only be made stronger by whatever storms we face. For there to be lots of storms, ones we are currently in and ones that we can't possibly foresee. But also, to walk through them all together, not questioning if the calm will come but only when. To work hard to show hubby that I can be the wife he needs, even in times when I am needy myself. To receive grace and love from him in the ways I need even when he is feeling needy too. To feel cherished and valued and have the effort I am putting forth acknowledged. And to do the same for him.

Expecting... to fail. To not live up to my own ideals of motherhood and womanhood in general. But to allow myself to freely receive God's grace and mercy and to get back up and try again.

Expecting... to feel overwhelmed at times, like I can't possibly do it. And then to realize, I can and I will and whatever that looks like will be O.K. To also have moments when I am genuinely proud of myself for something, anything. And to let those moments fuel me during times when I am discouraged.

That is a lot of expecting... but it is all true. Maybe some of these are unique to me, but I am willing to bet that not all of them are. Are they?

Thank God for His grace in both helping me meet them and picking me up when there is no way that I can.