... i'll blog a bit.
I'm due in 12 days.
A year ago I thought I might never be pregnant, and now, in the holy length of 12 days I'm due.
Is this how Elizabeth felt as her womb grew heavier and heavier and tightened on and off, mostly imperceptibly?
Or Sarah? Or Rebekah? Or Rachel? Or Hannah?
Awe and wonder primarily.
There is a baby inside me. A BABY.
And like my foremothers in faith, I know not who this child is or will be.
Unlike my foremothers in faith, I've had no divine messengers or holy dreams.
Unless you count all the people who are CERTAIN they know the gender of this child.
And I haven't kept a poll, but... I think... they're split 50/50.
In my dreams, the few I've had about a baby since becoming pregnant, I've dreamed of a boy.
But my heart pulls a bit harder at the thought of a girl.
I just started reading about the earliest hours and days of a baby's life.
And I know that it. will. not. matter. at. all.
For a child will be born to us.
A son or daughter given to us.
And all shall be well.