I think my physical fatigue is giving way to my faith. I'm feeling apprehensive and quite honestly a little scared about this baby's birth. I'm tired. I know I'll make my way to a sane place, but these early morning hours really do make me question.
I love pretty packages. You know the ones where the packaging is almost better than the gift. Pretty bows and flowers and little attentions to details that make you not want to open the gift for fear of ruining the wrap job. That's how I wish I could see the future. Like a pretty package. I want the bow on top. I want the tidy, neat and pleasing presentation before my eyes. Alas, sometimes all I see is a hasty gift bag thrown together with a little tissue from a past gift and no card.
I'm not sure if my little metaphor is actually making sense, but anyhow...today I feel anxious. And really why? There's not much I can do but just live it and make sense of it as I go along.
Yesterday I found myself bravely saying "So what. So X happens, So Y happens. So what. It will happen or not and we'll figure it out." See, how can I be so brave one min. and so doubting the next? Add in a little irrational hormone here or there and now you can see why I can't seem to sleep past 3 a.m.
The sun is coming up. The baby is moving. I hear footsteps upstairs. It's time to get a start on the day.
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