I have been mourning lately the fact that I have not had time to complete all the wonderful projects and preparations I had planned in anticipation of Bunkin's arrival. Only a few more weeks to go-and it seems it will take those weeks to get the house 'just so' before s/he arrives so I don't anticipate even getting them completed in time (and in some cases, even started!).
Even worse, though, it seems that my head and heart have been so full and busy with the simple day-to-day tasks, that even opportunity to enjoy and focus on my bellybaby has been nonexistent. I find myself lying in bed at the end of the day, laughing at the squirms and kicks of my little one, and realizing this is the first time this day that I have really spent cherishing him/her.
What a shame it is, that I have devoted so little time to this wee one! I want to eagerly anticipate Bunkin's arrival in more than just a thoughtful way-but in a REAL way! Bring on the baby clothes! Take a gander at the receiving blankets! I want to look at BABY things, smell the clothes my "once babies" wore! I want to be utterly astonished at how small the diapers need to be in order to fit! I want to imagine how small these little fingers and toes are going to be-and how they will feel as my fingertips feel their warmth! I want to think about the loveliness of the shallow breaths of a newlyborn resting on my chest.
And: I want to prepare a place for this dearling in our lives. Not next month. Not next week. NOW!
I found all the cradle pieces and washed away the dust of its idleness. With each stroke I painted of warm water, I remembered the hours that I sat in the garage, nearly six years ago, watching Mattie working, sanding, creating, and celebrating life. He wanted to create me an heirloom, something that all of our children could be rocked in (and even grandchildren!), something that made evidence his joy in their creation and his thankfulness in the gift of them.
I tucked in the mattress I made out of foam and plastic tablecloth, chuckling at the memory of Matt's old boss' wife ( a retired nurse) coming and inspecting the thing to be sure it was 'safe' after I told her I made it. Her raised eyebrows upon hearing of a "homemade" mattress make me laugh even today, and her shock and surprise at how "professional looking" it was still makes my day.
I found the cradle veil, with cracked holder and tousled tulle. Even in it's sorry state, it is beautiful. I notice a small hole in the tulle and it makes me smile. That small hole! The veil was an afterthought; an impulse, when we returned from the hospital with our delicious little girl. We had a party planned for just a week or so afterward and I was determined to have it finished by then. How vain I was! My vanity led to many tears and hurried stitching-even until the night before the party when I swore it would be FINISHED. Eventually, the darkness of night forced me to bed with a few stitches to go. But the next morning, when I awoke, I realized my haste had stitched the tulle in a spot that ought not have been stitched-and my pulling on it created a rip. That rip and the frustration of it all caused me so many tears! Yet now, three children later, I laugh and smile as I fondly recall how silly I really was.
I unpacked random pieces of the bedding that I worked on tirelessly so long ago, right up until the days Corynn was born. The pieces didn't get packed away together, so I am pleasantly surprised to find a piece of bumperpad covering, or a quiltlet as I unpack other, unrelated boxes. A few pieces are still missing in action-but the discovered ones are folded nicely in the cradle, awaiting the day they can be freshly washed and put on to wrap our baby in his/her Mama's love.
It is good to recall these days-good for my soul. It is also good to remember that when Bunkin comes, even now, our baby will be wrapped in the love of his/her Mama and Papa. Each stitch was stitched with love. Each piece of wood, shaped with admiration. Each moment of it's creation was filled with Thanksgiving for the greatness of God to bestow His gifts upon us, however many they are. Each one is a blessing. Each one is a vision, and each one holds a piece of us.
It is very good to think on these things.