Do you really think that I would miss Black Friday?
At 37 weeks pregnant, I did the dang thang and I must say that it was so worth it to spend time with my mom and keep this after-Thanksgiving tradition alive. Thing is . . . after 5 hours of shopping, I was pooped and I think Miles noticed that we weren’t comfortably sprawled out in the warmth of our bed. At about 1:30 a.m., as I was standing in line to pay for my wonderful purchases at Calphalon, he started “a kicking” and “a squirming”. It was time to take my baby home. Throughout the night, that later turned into the wee hours of the morning, I was catered to like none-other.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” “Ma’am, do you need anything?” “Ma’am, do you need a food rub and a massage?”
Okay, maybe that last one was just a figure of my imagination, but I sure enjoyed the attention. Ladies would stop what they were doing to ask me when I was due or to let me know how brave I was. The sentiments were certainly nice to hear, but like my mom has always told me . . . “Mona, pregnancy is not an illness.” Some of you may think, true, but you should be putting your feet up. You should be relaxing. You should be getting as much rest as you possibly can. Then I have to wonder, how much rest is going to prepare me for the sleep that I am going to be deprived of in the next couple of weeks? My thought is, I better enjoy this freedom while it lasts. The freedom to get up and go, even as slow as I am currently moving. Today, I’m 38 weeks and I’m proud of the mileage of gotten these last nine months.
Mom said to me, just the other day, “When Miles is born, he’ll be born with his own shopping bag and ask you where you are going.” I just laughed and at the same time hoped that he’ll have the calmest temperament. After-all pregnancy has not slowed me down any. What it has done, however, is given me an even deeper sense of focus. It’s helped me put a lot of things in perspective. It has forced me to analyze a lot of my relationships. Some things I think I took for granted, I’ve come to really appreciate in my life. As critical as I can be, I’ve realized that solid, consistent relationships, that pose themselves as support systems are vital, especially in raising a child. So, today, I give mad props and shout-outs to my mother, Karen, Ryane and Nicoya. I have surrounded myself with great people and will continue to cherish those relationships that make me stronger and better. This also includes the relationship I have with G-O-D. How some people do it without him, I don’t know. He’s been a constant supplier of strength, peace, joy and hope. His gifts of discernment and wisdom continue to guide me everyday and those gifts will definitely come in handy when we begin raising our son. I thank Him for my husband . . . “my voice of reason” when I am irrational, which is most cases. This goes without saying that God gave me exactly what I needed. Run tell that Antoine Dodson!
So, this holiday season, I am overwhelmingly thankful. At the end of last year, all I wanted was to do was get pregnant. A few major changes later, including losing jobs and gaining better ones, our prayers were answered. No, it didn’t take long, but if you only knew . . . (in the words of MTV’s Diary) You think you know, but you have no idea. The timing couldn’t be better and it’s not how we planned. That’s the funny thing about all of this. We plan and plan and plan some more, not realizing that God has the ultimate plan and His plan is always better than our own. Things happen when they are supposed to.
I didn’t think that I would end this blog entry with a testimony, but all of our lives are pretty much testaments to what we thought would never be possible. At this moment, could you have ever fathomed where you are now? Just imagine what’s to come. That’s what I think about when I think about my boy . . . what’s to come. A lot of trial and error. A lot of laughter and joy and subsequently, a few tears and pain.
I’m so full (Saints you know what I mean.)
Just a brief update on Miles . . . He’s the size of a watermelon and I can definitely confirm that from the many times I had to run to the bathroom during Black Friday shopping. He might have a little hair on the top of his head and if the old wives tale is true, I’ve had the heartburn to prove it. I watched what I ate this whole pregnancy, because before being with child, I suffered from acid reflux on occasion. In the last few days, it seems as if water alone gives me indigestion. I can only conclude that Baby T will have a head full of hair. I believe Miles sleeps with his fanny in the air. Yes, because each morning I wake up with a small mound on my stomach. It’s either or the left or right side, depending on which is most comfortable for my boy. I think it’s the cutest thing.
My younger brother made the sweetest comment to me the other day, or so I thought. He told me that he couldn’t wait until Miles was born. I got all warm and fuzzy inside until he blurted, because I’m tired of watching you talk to you stomach and giving us an update as to what he’s doing. Nevertheless, I continue to speak to what my husband labeled earlier-on as my imaginary friend. Hey, you get no closer to someone than sharing antibodies, right? We have the same bloodline . . . uh, literally. He will definitely know the voice of his mother, both in tone and pitch, because of all the verbal interaction I’ve had with him. I’ve read to him, sung to him, prayed for him, played with him. It’s not poppycock . . . it’s been the highlight of the last nine months of my life. So, not to take these comments so seriously, I just laugh, because after-all it is quite amusing.
Then I think I’m a SUPERHERO dang it! Anyone that can sustain life has superhuman powers. Holler at me when you can do that!