Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Twenty two.

The weariness.

I think about the days before my children were born. No nester, I; the cupboards were not rearranged, I didn't turn the house upside down cleaning. I was just tired and huge and wanting to get the whole birth thing over with. Which is where I am now, this Advent season. Did Mary feel the same, bumping along on a donkey?

It seems a healthy thing when you consider birthing. What would happen if women wanted to stay pregnant forever? What if they could?

So. I'm sitting back today. Resting because I'm at a desk and I must work. Waiting quietly. Not knowing what tomorrow brings with a daughter having her wisdom teeth out. Will we go home for Christmas? Will we stay here with a sleepy daughter, black and blue-jawed, too pained to want to see Grandma?

Internally, I wait. How will Advent culminate within? Will next year be the same? Will I be the same?

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