I seriously overdid it yesterday and ended up in a rocking chair, at the end of the dining room table, grimacing and closing my eyes every few seconds while everyone else ate supper and asked repeatedly, 'what's wrong, Mommy?'
'I didn't drink enough' I said over and over, chewing on ice cubes, 'and now the baby thinks it should be born right now.'
'Ew' said Alouicious.
I never can get used to this last stage of pregnancy. After this many babies, or so my doctor tells me, your body knows how to give birth and sets itself up to be ready to every moment of the day and night. So you feel, for weeks and weeks, like you're about to kick into labor, but you never do. That's the key. You Never Do. You just go on being pregnant until Jesus comes back. And of course, God is patient and merciful, abounding in steadfast love, not wanting any to perish but all to gain eternal life and so He Doesn't Come Back. Day after day he waits.
I exaggerate, only a little. This pregnancy has been the best, probably, of all five (except for being seriously nauseated for 6 months). Matt pointed out yesterday, when I was whining, that usually by this point and I am affixed to the couch eating lime popsicles and moaning. Instead, for reasons I cannot fathom, I am vacuuming almost every day, maintaining an organized and orderly house, cooking immense pots of soup and getting in full days of school. And This Week (I can barely contain my excitement) I'm hoping to move all the contents of two atria into two beautifully constructed rooms built for this vary purpose in the parish hall. I have Never Had three separate rooms for all three levels of Catechesis. The rooms are going to be painted a cheerful and holy yellow and then I'm going to putter and move furniture and make lists.
It was a great comfort to me, then, to discover this post this morning. I know Matt (and probably the whole vestry) wonders why I am always in the atrium, rearranging stuff and fussing. And I know my own children wonder why, when we arrive at CC on Wednesdays, the first thing I do is rearrange All the tables and chairs even though there's no real practical reason to do so. Obviously, its because I'm such a godly person (ahem). It couldn't be any other reason, like being overly perfectionist and hung up about inconsequentials.
But this morning, still being sore and shattered by my own stupidity, I am going to lie here and continue to eat ice.