With all my heart.

atticus bump

“I have learned not to worry about love; but to honor its coming with all my heart.” Alice Walker

Like most prospective parents, I have had some sleepless nights worrying about what we are going to do. (I have also spent some sleepless nights being kicked repeatedly. But I guess that is a different thing altogether.) How are we going to take care of another person? What about when he gets big enough to have opinions that are different than ours? What about when he goes to high school and gets his driver’s license? What if he grows up to be a . . . Duke fan?

When I said yes to Mike, it was less about my feelings and more about knowing that I wanted to be with him, to make my life with him. That he was the one I did not want to be without. When I said yes to Atticus, it was not really about feelings, either. It was about stepping out in faith and saying that we were ready. Knowing that expanding our family, expanding our love was a good thing. All the things I have learned in the past ten years about choosing to love and to forgive will surely serve me in this choice as well.

I can be impulsive and emotional, but I am also cerebral. Maybe even to a fault. So it probably shouldn’t have been such a surprise to me that I haven’t felt those things that women always say that they feel during pregnancy. I haven’t gotten emotional about those ultrasounds. Instead I have felt what can best be described as . . . protective. I may not be swooning over tiny baby clothes, but I have felt those mother bear instincts just a little bit. Mike is already a little bit worried about sending me to parent-teacher conferences, I can tell. Maybe that’s what everyone else means when they talk about that overwhelming love. To be honest, though, I kind of doubt it.

It has worried me, this lack of feeling. Shouldn’t I be different somehow? Shouldn’t this have changed me more?

A few months ago, I came across that quote by Alice Walker, and I saved it, not because it was exactly what I was feeling, but because it was what I wanted for myself, for our new little family. I don’t know what it means to honor love’s coming: I don’t think it’s as simple as avoiding sushi and drinking lots of water. The only thing I knew how to do was to work to make things ready. When Mike bought the crib, when we made the curtains, when I ordered the rug, when we picked up the dresser from that third floor apartment, when I chopped up all those books, when we hung those frames, when we made decisions and registered and I let Mike use the scanner, we were making a space in our house as well as our lives for a new person to move in. And I have started to wonder if, perhaps, that isn’t what love looks like after all.

Linking up with Imperfect Prose.

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