I tend to hunker down in the last few weeks of pregnancy. In this way I can get my ducks in a row, my head in the game. Lay low, get rest, find some comfort in the regular passage of time and the predictability of every day.
Summer is not predictable though. Some days are gloriously sunny, others it rains. Some days we spend at home, some days we run around to the store, have play dates, or visit with neighbors who happen to be outside at the same time as us. My children yearn for the outside, for adventure and fun. I remember feeling the same way as a child. There is a freedom to summer that begs to be lived fully. The rhythm of life is not as strict in the summer and that is one of the reasons I love it so.
I've never had a baby in the summer before.
I'm finding myself being pulled in two directions. On the one hand I want to plan, organize, and have calm surround me in preparation for birth, but I also want to without reservations glide effortlessly through the summer days and soak it all in before it's gone.
And, in this place I found myself today. The doctor told me that this baby will likely take longer than the rest have. I sat there with that thought along with the others and the worry, the anxiety, it all sunk down to my core. I kept trying to slap a smile on my face and shake the feelings of frustration.
"Please pray for me. I don't want negativity to rule today." I messaged my best friend and my husband.
Within an hour the sun had come out. My kids went outside. I cleaned my bathroom. I mopped and conditioned the wood floors. I made myself some iced coffee and I watched a funny video.
Then, I started to feel bad again. I chastised myself with the thought, "Joy is not contingent on circumstances, coffee, or clean floors."
I think I missed something though. While that's true, God can send us love notes too. Our joy isn't contingent on passing moments, but it is ok to be happy and enjoy them. He wants us to. He sends us love notes every day. In the form of a child's smile, laughter from the ones you love, the flowers outside, the sun peeking through the clouds in just such a way, a hug, a warm breeze, finishing a project, reading a book.
I walked into the kitchen these thoughts in tow and saw it just sitting there on our deck. A green heron. We have a pond in the back yard and over the last couple years I've seen one or two green herons. They're very skittish. I've never been able to catch a photo of one - at least not a recognizable photograph. I grabbed my camera, walked back and it was still there. And it seemed like God was saying, "Here you go, Melissande. Just for you." God's gentle love note to me.