the end is near...

...but physically, my body seems to be no more ready than it was two weeks ago...according to Dr. Karnes. No more dialating or effacement. But he did say she is very low and engaged. I was disapointed to hear that I'm not dialating any more, but he did say that we could have one more ultrasound. So next Tuesday, May 2nd, whether she comes out or stays in...we'll get to see Maya!
And after that, it can't be *too* much longer until we actually get to hold her. I'm beginning to rest in the fact that she WILL come out. It is inevitable. Though I can't know or control when, she'll be here...very soon.

This week is my last week of teaching. It seems funny that my school year is really almost over. But all the final pieces are just about in place. I finally have all of my programs printed for the final concert and musical, notes and diagrams for sound techs turned in, sets & costume designers deligated and on task, sub plans printed, progress reports turned in,...and my students are just about ready. My school office and "cart" (since I'm a traveling teacher without a real classroom) are organized and ready for a sub.
Our house is almost all organized and clean--even the closets! Room by room, Ryan has built these amazing closet organization shelving systems in all of our closets. We finished the last one this weekend. I'm finally caught up on ironing and laundry. We have groceries. I'm almost caught up on thank-you notes. My bag is packed. Maya's bag is packed.

Life feels manageable, controllable. Maya won't change that at all, right?

On Saturday at Maya's shower, my sister, Marianne 'spoke.' She has the amazing, disciplined mind of a BSN...(she understands and uses math and science in her job!), yet she is one of the most spontaneously creative and artistic people I know. She also happens to be a really gifted communicator/ teacher. She told a story about her family's adventure in a cave...and the necessity of a guide in such a beautiful, complex, dangerous, and dark place.
She made me think about my role as Maya's mother, her guide. That is all I am. She is a gift...not my own. Though I feel a great sense of ownership...that she belongs to me, I know she doesn't. She will need me to guide her and protect her. She will be dependent on me as no one has ever been before. From the moment her life began, I have been her source of nourishment and life. We will live to protect her and take care of her. But there are also places that we will never be able to guide her. She'll have to do things without us. Someday, I may have to watch her hurt, or fail, or cry. And I won't be able to protect her or fix it. What if someone's cruel words hurt her at school? What if she doesn't even tell me about it? How can I trust someone else (her teacher, a coach, another parent) to love her, to teach her, to protect her?
But I am not her only guide...or even her best one. Ultimately, I long for her to realize her need for her Creator, Redeemer. To know that she is loved by Him. That she can only truly belong to him. Not me. I am only a guardian of His precious daughter.

When I stop my racing mind from simply wishing that I'd get this baby OUT of my body, I start to realize how terribly frightening and thrilling that moment will be. In these last days of waiting, I feel like I am standing at the edge of something very mysterious, compelling, and dangerous. That this place...parenthood, will be the most beautiful and painful thing I have ever experienced.