Lifestyle, Pregnancy

The Year of Mystery

January 20, 2014

I know. It’s been a long time since I’ve written a blog post. My brain has been too busy forgetting my purse and trying to remember what I went to the refrigerator for.

In these final weeks of pregnancy, Mike has gotten into the habit of sending me a very considerate text message before he brings anyone home, “Babe. Friends are coming by. Are you wearing pants?”

Each time I reply: “Working on it.”

It’s still weird to me that 2014 is a year happening in present tense. I spent a lot of time at the beginning of the New Year remembering 2013, counting the ways God has been gracious and thoughtful and surprising to us.

We got to travel in 2013: Switzerland, Italy, Ireland, British Columbia, and Maui. We took lots of pictures and climbed several mountains and got very, very lost more than once. I had dramatic, slow motion falls on dark ice in Zermatt, on snow in Dublin, on wet volcano rock in Maui, and on an over-waxed floor in the buffet line at the local Souplantation. The last one was by far the worst.

I grew understandably agitated each and every time we ran out of snacks on the road last year.  Maybe this happened more often in 2013 because I spent most of the year going “halfsies” on all my meals with an incubated human that surprised us in June. In one solitary week, Mike and I found out we were pregnant, became volunteer worship directors at our church, watched wildfires rage across our Colorado hometown, and ate at one shockingly mediocre Thai restaurant. I remember that Thai food because the smell of curry has never been more bitterly offensive.  That’s the first time I felt markedly pregnant.

We spent much of 2013 being busy in unremarkable ways: sharing meals with friends, pouring into our local church, and arguing over a safe and reasonable following distance on California highways.

We spent months and months considering the idea of pregnancy without feeling remarkably sentimental about the whole thing.  I mean, we have always loved and valued and prayed for this miniature person without really knowing her at all. We’ve encountered evidence of her development: a positive pregnancy test; a strong, beautiful heartbeat; a few ultrasound snapshots; but our most intimate interactions have involved  volatile kicks to my ribs and the numerous ways she makes my belly button look really freaking weird.

She is the mystery I’ve carried with me, unsolved, for nine blurry months. I think that’s why I’ve had a hard time writing anything meaningful about pregnancy, because it feels like blind speculation about a storyline too important to get wrong. I don’t want to speculate. I’d rather wait and see.

And that’s what I’m doing.  I’m waiting with fewer than four weeks to go. I’m enduring a daily rib-pounding and anticipating the moment when she finally arrives so I can start unraveling the great mystery of who she is.

I have at least one hundred and ninety questions for her, but for now I direct them to her original Father, the one who knit her together and carefully arranged all the details I’ll spend a lifetime unraveling. Sometimes I pray for her person-y specifics, her health, her brain, her personality, but mostly I pray for myself, for eyes to see her details like He does, to mirror the ways He loved her first and best and most specifically.

Honestly, I don’t know what adventure will look like with a fast-growing infant in 2014. How often will we get to ride the shcooter? Should we have purchased a rocking chair after all? Will my belly button ever recover? I’m still quite foggy on how to release a car seat from its secure base or how to turn a piece of fabric into a body sling for baby.  I have no idea what the word “job” will mean to me after I become a mother. And I wonder if there will ever come a time where pants sound like a good idea, even when no one else is around.

2014 is a great mystery. I’m still waiting on clues,  on new adventures, on assembly instructions I have yet to Google. I’m keeping my eyes open so I don’t miss the details, and I’ll try to write them down as I catch them– or at least capture them in a blurry photo redeemed by Instagram filters.

We will wait.

We will see.

Happy (present tense) New Year Mystery.

  • Pastor Scott

    Happy New Year Mike and Bekah. Just wanted to say thanks for writing. I very much enjoy reading your heart, thoughts and words. Don’t stop. We’ll wait and see with you.

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