I can recall one summer day, I believe it was the first day of summer vacation, and I was in our front yard. I’m not sure how old I was, but I know it was the earliest house in my memory–which we moved from when I was eight. I remember slowly walking through my front yard, closing my eyes and throwing my head back to feel the warmth of the sun on my face. I remember the way the breeze was creating a soft rustle all around me and the mourning doves provided music as I slowly twirled around the yard with outstretched arms as if I was Julie Andrews singing on an Austrian mountain in the Sound of Music. I remember loving that moment and wishing I could bask in it forever.
I’ve always tended to have a more intense personality. I’m a feeler. . . a thinker. . . a dreamer. . .
It is a part of my personality that I have grown to accept and even appreciate more and more as I’ve grown and matured through the years. It is also the part of my personality that has made life a little more challenging. There are times when I admire those who aren’t swayed by stress, who allow hurts to slide off their backs, who look fear in the face and laugh at it, and who see change coming and lay out the welcome mat. . .
But alas. . . that is not me.
Nope, I will over-analyze, over-think, over-feel most things. In fact, the only life change I believe I’ve ever faced without fear was marrying Chad.
Going to college. . . FEAR.
Choosing a major. . . FEAR
Going to grad school. . . FEAR
Getting a “big girl job”. . . FEAR
Having Baby #1. . . FEAR
Having Baby #2. . . FEAR
Having Baby #3. . . FEAR
Yep, you read that right. . . we are breaking the boy/girl tie with a new baby.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. We. are. excited. But just as change has always brought a bit of anxiety for me. . . this change is no exception. I tend to get comfortable with what I know and what I have known for 3.5 years is. . . just the four of us. . .
I have loved the time when our home was balanced with two girls and two boys. I have loved being two on two. I have enjoyed what we have had, but somehow it felt. . . someone was missing.
That someone is coming in November and I am just shy of the end of my first trimester. Perhaps you’ve noticed that my posts have been slightly sporadic over the last several weeks. Truth is, constant nausea and sheer exhaustion have had me heading to bed before heading to Blogger. Hang in there with me. . . I’m doing my best.
Over the last several weeks the reality of the impending change has been setting in. We’ve tossed around names, Charlie and Chanelle have put in their orders (a boy for Charlie, a girl for Chanelle), we’ve discussed transitions and logistics, and my heart has fought to balance fear and excitement.
If this is anything like my previous pregnancies. . . I will fight this until the day I hold this little baby in my arms.
(And just as I typed that I felt a jolt to my heart as I remembered. . . the person who writes this today is very different from the person I was in those days. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe. . . just maybe. . . that’s up to me.)
So, here I am in the midst of a new journey of a familiar kind and yet, somehow, it feels very unfamiliar. The journey of pregnancy, the journey of a family in transition, the journey of change, the journey of. . . life. As we await all that we will be, my hope is to continue to enjoy the simple little things that, in and of themselves, make life beautiful.
And really, it’s everywhere, isn’t it? I’m excited to have this space to share our journey–whatever the journey will look like. I’m thankful for the support I have found in this space. . . the support and the healing. Even as I write in this space tonight I find that the battle between fear and excitement has taken a shift. It seems that tonight. . . excitement is winning.