nomathemba

33 weeks, today. Four more until the pregnancy is "full term", seven more until the due date. He is getting bigger, and his bones must be getting harder. He moves all the time, sometimes to my discomfort. His room is ready, waiting. My arms are ready, waiting. 

How certain yet fragile is his life right now, while he is in my womb, almost ready, waiting. 

Meanwhile, a man dear to my heart is in the hospital many miles away. He may have suffered a stroke, no one is certain yet, but he is coherent and doing fine otherwise. One side of his face has become paralyzed. It may or may not be permanent. He is under too much stress, and I pray that God takes him and his family into His hand and covers them with love and mercy, providing for them and easing their worry. 

Life is so joyful, so sorrowful, so mysterious. 

I am counting the weeks (five) until I begin maternity leave. I have a heavy work schedule this week, and I am somewhat dreading it because I am pregnant to the point of exhaustion, and work is becoming physically difficult for me. Luckily I still have no health complications with my pregnancy, but just standing on my feet and moving constantly for six hours at a time at work is enough to wear me out completely. I am nearly ready to leave the world of lattes behind me. Though I must say, the customers sometimes make it all worth it. They are joyful about my pregnancy, and excited about the baby's arrival. I receive many compliments on how good I look for being so pregnant, and I hear many sweet anecdotes about how it's all worth it, and how wonderful children are, and how my life is about to completely change for the best. It's all so uplifting. But I am ready to begin my new life, as a mother. 

With the new life quickly approaching, I've been especially mindful of delicious moments. Today, I napped for nearly four hours. The bedroom was cool, with the fan on, and the feather comforter was the perfect companion. I also enjoy black tea lately, sometimes with a hint of milk and sugar, sipped slowly. I relish my hours spent reading a good book, or writing letters, or baking cookies. It's not that these things won't be happening after I have the baby, I just predict they will be fewer and further between. That might make them all the more delightful.

"Nomathemba" means "hope" in Zulu. It is with hope that I live every moment of these slow, hot days. Hope for a healthy baby, a natural childbirth. Hope for recipes to turn out correctly. Hope in big and small things. Hope, and trust, in my Father.