My nails are painted. Bright fuchsia pink. It had to be something bright and light and hopeful. In these last weeks of pregnancy, all wobbly and waddling and breathless and awkward, it really is about the little dignities: feet up in my new second hand reclining chair; painted nails; an Afternoon nap; warm cookies straight from the oven; spending time writing.
At this stage – 35 weeks – 5 weeks to go until full term, my body is controlled by a bundle of nerves and tissue that kicks my ribs and keeps me up at night. The little dignities give bursts of energy to my otherwise extremely empty tank. Now today, after an hour of quiet and solitude, I find myself grateful:
- For Resurrection Sunday. Of death overcome. Of beauty from Ashes. Of hope in the midst of darkness.
- For a fearless, humble, suffering, life-giving Christ.
- For a strong heartbeat in the growing little being inside me.
- For my parents who whisked my two daughters away for a drive this afternoon so I could enjoy solitude and my hubby could go on a long, sweaty, bicycle ride.
- For those family and friends (both new and old) who have sustained us over this very challenging year of transition.
- And for the spring. For the hope it holds. Of new life. And joy. And a season of beauty to come.