Hurry Up And Wait.

No baby yet. Yes, I'm still pregnant. Yes, I'm a little worn out with it. No, I'm not in despair.

Fact is, at 39 weeks today, I feel far more relieved having gotten things at home at a manageable level FINALLY.... All the work at organizing I've been doing in fits and starts for months now is showing its fruition in some clearly defined systems and a sense of what my Beloved Mister calls the Where Does It Go game (there's even a song....). For the first time in the last few weeks of having consistently, though non-patterned contractions, and other classic hallmarks of impending labor, I feel truly free to have this baby boy without worry about what might be left undone. It's a fantastically freeing feeling.

Ziggy: bring it on, my love. We're ready for you, whenever you get to gettin'.

While we plan to stay here at home as late into the process as possible, the bags for us to take to hospital and for Bert to take to Sue's are all packed and lined up in the front room. Lists of who to call, what to take where and when to do what are taped to the back of the door. The labor candle is ready to be lit, the birthing bead necklace is close at hand, nourishing foods are at the ready. And as of last evening, we have a doula! The Mister feels relief and relaxation, and that helps me to tune into what I need for me, which is largely luxuriating in the magic of things and going as deeply inward as I seem to wish.

In the meantime, sweet Em had her baby girl two nights ago and her husband says she was amazingly strong. With baby Wren's birth, the balance was tipped and now over half of our childbirth education class babes have made their way into the world. It's thrilling each time we learn of a couple's new family member; we're so excited to look at the photos they zing over electronically and I'm delighted with the wonder of it all, over and over.

I'm determined to plant some pots of mums and anemones, as I want Ziggy to come home to flowers and those planted in the late Spring and early Summer have succumbed to heat and a stomping by the well meaning landlord, but we'll see if that's a something done prior to his birth or no.... Pansies, the Herdwick sheep of the floral world, are due to be potted up next month, once Autumn has officially begun and Middle Tennessee cools enough for them to flourish through the next three seasons. And it may be that I'm content to wait until I can sling up my boy and hit the front pots in the weeks to come.

I've got visions of baking quiches and banana bread this late afternoon, and of freezing up bags of chili. Nesting has settled in in a less frenetic way where it just feels good and easy, untethered to expectation.... Lots of Gillian Welch, Buddy & Julie Miller, The Staple Singers and Steve Miller Band on the stereo.

Bert the dog and I have gotten in a good walk and a lengthy visit to the dog park this afternoon, surprising our neighbors as we waddle by, my belly still round.... Still pregnant. Still waiting. Still smiling.

The only thing for certain is that the birth will come. The particulars will remain cloaked in what Maren Tonder Hansen calls the Mother Mysteries, and today, I'm perfectly content to let the mystery be.