A new journey awaits

When the opportunity comes along every so often to contribute to this column, I cringe.

It's only because I never know what to write that isn't personal. I've been known for years to wear my heart on my sleeve. It emerges that much more when I put it down on paper.

Sure, I have my own opinion on issues, both local and abroad, about changing lifestyles and durable fads.

But it's hardly enough to fill a column.

It seems when my turn rolls around, I long for the chance to divulge some timely memories or an important occasions.

In the past, I've shared in this space stories about family - the birth of my niece; an anniversary trip with my husband gone slightly awry; grandparents' treasured wisdom - and my adventures from one military base to another as I grew up in the shadows of an Army battalion.

I suppose I view my openness as a way for readers to learn a little about the person whose byline they see each week. To laugh and reminisce with the face at board meetings, schools events and class celebrations.

And so, as I mark a major milestone, I'm following my ususl routine - sharing it with all ofyou.

For the past eight weeks, I've suffered from complete exhaustion. I fight to crawl out of bed each morning and keep my eyes open at my desk mid-afternoon. When evening rolls around, I've been rendered pretty useless. Laundry, ironing, cleaning and cooking are not nearly as much a priority as curling up on the couch for a long nap.

Just the thought of chicken or beef makes my taste buds quiver and my stomach turn. I've been living off cereal, Jell-O and fruits and vegetables, though once and a while, hot dogs and sausage are strangely appealing.

While most people keep a close eye on their waistlines during these summer months, I'll be watching mine steadlily grow.

I've heard of what's in store. I've read waht to expect. I know I'll soon be uncomfortable. I know everyday activities will feel nearly impossible to complete.

But within seven months, it will all be worth it.

If you haven't already guessed, my husband and I are expecting a baby.

Our first, and by my estimates, due around Christmas.

I admit this little miracle came as a bit of a surprise. I was a bit overwhelmed, and I couldn't decide if the tears streaming down my cheeks were due to happiness or nervousness - or maybe a little of both.

Yet, as I enjoy the last year of my 20s, I realize the timing of this new addition to our life is jsut right. God's plans always are.

I wanted a specal way to tell our parents, knowing our news would likely catch them off guard. Since buying a house six months ago, our priorities have been decorating and furnishing, putting up blinds and hanging curtains and paying extra care to a lawn long neglected.

Preparing a nursery was expected - a little further down the road.

I bought my mom and dad a small, baby-themed photo album and a bib that reads, "My Grandparents love me." I wrapped them separately and as the four of us sat around their kitchen table one night, I felt my heart was going to beat right out of my chest.

It took a few seconds for them to realize what they had opened, and then my mom, half crying and half laughing, squealed, "Are we going to be grandparents?!" It's a moment I'll never forget.

To tell my husband's family, we bought a blank baby card and addressed it to our niece. Inside, we scribbled, "Can't wait to meet you. Love, your cousin."

At their house for an early dinner one Sunday, we asked my sister-in-law to read the card aloud. The reaction from everyone was priceless.

Friends have bombarded me with excitement, well wishes and stacks of baby books. But it still seems surreal.
I've always had a mothering instinct. Just ask my younger brother, who's sure to begrudgingly agree. When we were chidlren, I was the one walking around our family cottage in the summertime with a little cousin on my hip. The older ones followed me around and nicknamed me Mother Theresa; the latter is my middle name.

When friends became mothers, I'd visit to dote on the newborn, but I never saw myself in their shoes.

Until now.

I'm trying not to get overloaded with information. There are hundreds of websites out there dedicated to pregnancy. They tell me what I can and cannot eat, how I should and shouldn't be feeling and what activites are safe and those I should avoid.

Each week, I get updates comparing the baby's growth to a piece of fruit. This week, for instance, it's the size of a kumquat. The sites tell me if I could peek into the womb, I'd see tiny nails forming on fingers and toes and peach-fuzz hair emerging, and vital organs in place and beginning to function.

I'm dumbfounded how a teeny person is developing, little by little; how a heart and brain, lungs and eyes, a nose and mouth have grown out of a microscopic cell. It's really remarkable.

I wonder if the baby will have my eyes and my husband's smile, or special features all its own. I hope it's helathy and happy - and that it doesn't one day grow up to resent how close its birthday is to the year's biggest holiday.

I worry what kind of parent I will be. Not that I don't have two amazing examples to follow. I pray I am patient and joyful; firm, yet forgiving; always around to wipe a tear, mend a broken spirit, share a hug and lots of laughs.

I want to inspire complete self-confidence and encourage dreams. I want to teach our little one about God's love and the importance of prayer. To live life wholeheartedly. To never regret, but move forward.

I can't wait to mark first sounds, first smiles, first steps.

I desire for our child to be so much more than I imagined I could be.

But most of all, at least in this moment, I want this baby to get here soon so our family journey can begin.