38 weeks and 1 day. Crumb can come any day now and be full term. He’s just as ready to live in the world as he will be two weeks from now. Most women I’ve talked to are ready to deliver by this point. They’re doing everything they can to go into labor and be finished with the discomforts of third trimester pregnancy. Maybe I’d be the same way if J were home with me. Instead, I’m doing everything I can to avoid going into labor for another week or so. I want, more than anything, for my love to coach me in labor, and to witness his son’s birth.
And though I don’t enjoy the frequent head butts to my bladder, I have enjoyed being pregnant (well…at least after the first trimester). The kicks and rolls and hiccups have not grown old, and even when they keep me awake in the middle of the night, I marvel that a baby could grow inside me. So although I can’t wait to meet my baby, I have a feeling a small part of me will miss being pregnant.
I’ll admit it: this Christmas I’ve spent more time looking at birth announcements and hoping J is home for his son’s birth than I have thinking about Christmas.
But, I was on my way home tonight and Francesca Battistelli’s song, “You’re Here,” came on the radio, and I was struck anew by the wonder that God would send his son in such a profoundly simple way. I probably would have sent him in a cloud of fireworks and fanfare, but God gave him to Mary to carry for nine months, just as all children have come into the world.
Morning sickness. Back aches. Hormone induced irrationality. Frequent trips to the bathroom. Those all pale in comparison to the privilege of being the incubator for a life, a soul, a heart. I can’t even fathom the significance of carrying the Son of God. How many times did Jesus elbow Mary in the ribs and prompt her to stop and just grapple with the fact that Almighty God was in her womb??
I. Cannot. Imagine.
And then…the birth of Jesus. I’m not there yet, so I don’t know what it’s like to deliver a child and stare into his eyes as my son…but I can imagine, and I’ll find out soon, Lord willing.
The Son of God. In the form of a man, a baby no less. “you made the world, before I was born, but here I am holding you in my arms tonight…Jesus, our Emmanuel.”
God could not be more “with us,” than to come as a newborn, 19 or so inches, 8 pounds of flesh….yet containing all the power of the the Most High God, Creator of the Universe.
So here I sit, in adoration. In awe. Words fail me at the perfection of God’s story. So I bow, at His feet, in worship.
Worship of a God who would not only send His Son as Savior of the world, but who would give me the gift of knowing Him more intimately through carrying and delivering a child.