Steph picks up her cellphone on a cold Monday afternoon. Her classroom lies underneath the ground and reception is poor at best. She checks her messages and there is one from our birthmother. A voice message is not unusual, as they often talk about schedules and other baby related things. This message was not one of those messages.
“Call me when you get this”
Have you ever noticed that there seems to be an inverse relationship between how many words you say and the importance of the message? If someone keeps rambling on and on in a story, it’s likely that you’ll feel it wasn’t worth the wait for the payoff. However, shortening it to three words, “I Love You”, means the world.
Had this message been less important, she would have said something like “Call me when you get this. I can’t remember if my appointment was at 1:15 or 1:45.” If it was more important, it would have just been, “Call me!” Regardless, a one sentence message signifies importance, so she calls back immediately. No response. She leave a message, “Text me when you’re free”. The text message comes about 20 minutes later.
Twenty minutes gives her enough time to call me to bring me up to speed, but also give her enough time to work through the 100 different scenarios that could have occurred. (Who am I kidding, it took her twenty seconds to come up with them and work right to the scenario that she was at the hospital baby in hand).
I can’t really go into all the details because we like to keep her privacy, but suffice to say we had a minor “oh man, the baby may be coming” scare. The boy has found that the most uncomfortable spots in mom’s tummy are the best places to rest and kick, and that day was exceptionally bad. That, along with the appearance of blood led to a doctor’s visit. No baby yet, but mom is starting to dilate. From what we’ve been told, some women dilate early and still go full term. So, maybe things haven’t changed, but if they have…
We’re not ready.
It’s not a home thing, or a clothes thing. Nor is it food related, or care related. We are not mentally there. For so long now, we’ve had in our head the end of March. It wasn’t even March yet. Eva went full term, so our vision of this birth is clouded by the ease of hers.
We understand that we’ll never be “ready” for child number two. Just like we were never ready for Eva. I guess I thought that I like it not to be shocking. It would be like waking up and being told that the IRS moved the filing date to today. We can handle our taxes, but we had planned to do them later, now we are left scrambling. (Well, technically this example doesn’t apply to us as we hurried our taxes in to Uncle Sam to sit and wait).
This was a big wake up call for us. While the nursery is ready, and the car seats are installed, we need to get ourselves into the right state of mind. And fast.