Nesting

I have been pregnant 11 times, counting this one. I think I get humbler with each. For my first, I was on the go up until the very end. I could have been pregnant forever. It really didn't slow me down. Even at the end, I felt good and wasn't in a big hurry to be un-pregnant. And I was very public with my pregnancy. I recorded a CD and led worship at a Kent Henry conference and danced in front of everybody days after my due date.

With my next few, I remember getting closer to the end and wanting to settle in a little bit more. Near the end of my pregnancies I was more likely to cancel a worship practice or to turn down a chance to do something.

Over the years, I have become progressively more reclusive progressively earlier in my pregnancies. Sometimes I can't get out of obligations and just force myself to do what needs done. But my heart wants to be home sooner and sooner.

I remember with my 9th or 10th that I was done almost as soon as I started. Not that I wanted to have the baby that soon, and not even that I didn't enjoy being pregnant. But the nesting thing. I don't mean that fabled burst of energy you hear about where the previously lethargic 9 months pregnant mom-to-be is going around furiously cleaning her house, supposedly indicating labor will begin soon. I just mean that thing barn cats do.

Okay, to be honest, I'm not an actually animal person. Everything I know about animals is either from reading or hearsay. But I've read and heard lots of stories about favorite cats or other pets that go missing, are assumed lost, dead, or stolen, and weeks later come out of the barn with 4 or 5 little cute babies following behind.

That's what I feel like doing. I'm sure part of it is because over the years, the world has gradually become less and less enthusiastic about me being pregnant. It's one thing to go out in public with 4 or 7 or 10 ducklings, it's something entirely differently doing the same thing with a big round announcement on the front of you proclaiming to onlookers that you obviously haven't learned your lesson yet.

I'm sort of over that. I don't care too much anymore. Sometimes the negative feeling gets to me, especially after going out in public several times in a row (last week I took all 10 to the dentist office and then immediately went to the allergy doctor, 'cuz I'm the amazing supermom . . . at the end I wanted to crawl under a rock!), but generally that's not my issue, I don't think. I just want to hide.

Hiddenness is probably a better term than nesting. It means I don't want to lead, don't want to teach, don't want to be on the spot in any way in front of people. I just want to be with my family, with my husband and children and friends who love me and feel very, very safe. Even facebook (especially facebook) feels exposed and unsafe sometimes.

I am hiding. I've quit everything that I do. I am only wife and mom. When someone asks me to do something, my head shakes no automatically. It's an instinct that kicks in as soon as I know I'm pregnant now and this time I'm not resisting.

But I was nesting even before I got pregnant. Because I'm nesting doubly right now. I'm nesting for two. I am growing somebody in my uterus AND in my heart. My van pulls to the right when I drive by St. John's, because that's where my first 10 miracles were born. But I'm also dreaming about getting on a plane and becoming a mom in a different way than I ever have before. I have ultrasound pictures on my counter and I have imaginings in my heart.

It's not one or the other. It's not that I don't care about being pregnant because I am hoping to adopt. It's BOTH/AND. God conceived two babies in our lives. One doesn't replace or invalidate the other. I'm not neglecting my "born baby" (as the kids call it) by dreaming about my adopted baby. I don't desire my adopted baby any less because God also chose to give us a "born" baby partway through the adoption process, not any more than a mother of twins prefers one child over another.

I'm waiting patiently for a day in February that I know from experience will come, give or take a couple weeks. I am trying to eat what my body needs and praying that God will give me a healthy pregnancy. I'm taking vitamins and going to checkups and asking questions and switching my wardrobe to accommodate my expanding middle.

AND I'm checking adoption agency websites and reading adoption books and praying for birthmoms and trying to be patient even though I have no idea within even years when it will happen. I'm pumping and planning and praying and picking out names. But mostly I'm waiting and leaning and longing, longing for an e-mail, a phone call, anything that takes it out of the vague maybe someday realm and moves it into reality. I'm longing to meet and hold someone I'm growing and carrying inside me, and longing to meet and hold someone who could be anywhere, arriving anytime.

And all of this longing together makes me one distracted chick. So if you miss seeing me in the usual places, or miss having me play a more active role, or miss my playing a more lively part in conversations or engaging more in what's happening around me, don't worry, I'm okay, and I'll be back later.

I'm just nesting.