24 January, 2010


I know it's not an exact science. I know it's an estimation. I know that unless my doctor was also a psychic she would never be able to tell me the exact date (and maybe not even then). But it's so hard not to put faith in that date. It's hard not to believe that she'll be here in these next 24 hours, on the 24th, just like they said. Whomever they were that said it. Only 5% of babies are born on their supposed due date. 5% is what they say. They say a lot of things.

Contrary to the popular belief that I may be "over" being pregnant and just want the whole thing to come to an end - I've actually enjoyed my pregnancy, never having felt so powerful and attractive (most days) and happy about my own femininity. I know that can be rare. I know I've been lucky. I think it's just that I'm finally ready. After 30 years, several breaks and subsequent mendings of the heart, dreams of this day & all that is to come - it's time.

And like an anxious child, it seems I've been waiting through this week of Christmas Eves... but every morning the cookies are still there and the milk glass is still full, with no signs of a visit from You Know Who. And just as I will no doubt have many opportunities to teach my daughter, perhaps tonight is yet another opportunity to remind myself of that particular virtue of patience - and yet another thing that they say: good things come to those who wait.

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