Well, I am one week and six days from my due date, which actually means that baby could join us at anytime now. The flurry of activity that I’ve been putting myself through in preparation for her arrival - that “nesting” instinct - has started to slow down a little bit, as there is less and less organizing to do (although I’m sure I could always find something else!). I feel as though I’ve entered a sort of holding pattern - like when your plane arrives at its destination, only you’re not allowed to land yet, because of weather conditions or whatnot. So you just circle and circle the city, looking down at it from 3,000 feet - so close yet still so far - and all you want to do is get off the plane and go home to what is familiar and comfortable. Only, in this case, I’m not going anywhere even remotely familiar. It is new and uncharted territory, and while I’ve never shied away from exploring new places and cultures, this is entirely different.

Lately I’ve heard stories and comments from various people about the way that their baby arrived when “they were ready.” I didn’t really pick up on the theme, actually, but my hubby did, and the other night he asked me whether or not I was “ready.” He wasn’t talking about nursery decorations or having our bags packed for the hospital stay; rather, he was talking about my emotions and my state of mind. Had I really embraced the reality of this baby’s arrival, and decided I was ready? I think he was only half-serious, but the question triggered something inside of me, and I realized that actually, I didn’t really feel ready at all. As much I dislike being pregnant and would love for it to be done with, at least I know how to be pregnant. It’s become normal and familiar, and I know what to expect and how to handle it. It’s something I imagine that I have a measure of control over (vain imaginings, to be sure, but the illusion is there, nonetheless).

However, I have no idea what lies beyond pregnancy. I don’t have a clue about the ways that my life and my marriage are about to change. There is excitement and joy, to be sure, but there is also a fear of the unknown. And because it’s the unknown, I must relinquish my illusions of control - and oh, how I love that illusion. Entering this world of parenthood will be the biggest transition I’ve ever made, and it’s a really big deal, and there’s no going back. There is a song by Sara Groves called “Painting Pictures of Egypt,” and while it’s not perfectly appropriate to my situation, I can relate somewhat, especially to this part:

I was dying for some freedom
But now I hesitate to go
I’m caught between the promise
And the things I know

Man, isn’t this true for all of us sometimes, at the start of a new venture? God is always stretching us, taking us out of our comfort zone and asking us to take that next step of faith with Him. I know I’m far from alone in this, and that’s both comforting and strengthening to my heart. As I talked with God and my hubby about these things, and shed quite a few tears to boot, I came to realize, once again, how faithful our Father is. We often forget it, in our human frailty and self-absorption. But faithful He is and always will be. Not only that, but He is also good. Yeehaw! He has replaced my fears with faith, and everytime I’m tempted to let the fears back in, He is standing by to replace them all over again.

So, I think I’m ready now. Actually, my parents are in Montana on vacation, and won’t be back until Tuesday night. I’d like them to be a little closer than Montana when I have the baby, so I think I will be ready on Tuesday night! And in the meantime I’ll continue to wait on God. There’s a reason for every holding pattern He gives us - something I should learn, or something that should happen - while I’m circling this great unknown place, waiting to touch down.