It’s time

I paced the floor for hours. Figure eights. Right around my dining room table, left around my couch. Down the stairs and out of the apartment. She walked the neighborhood until she couldn't walk anymore. She tagged in papa dale who walked for what seemed like miles.

For this I had prayed so long. I had worried, stressed, missed sleep, missed many many meals. Life tomorrow would be totally different. At midnight those words I had held on my tongue for a lifetime... "It's time."

Almost comical that the only person I could focus on was my mother. (Sorry #spartandad you were all over the place) Actually it is probably divine design since I was about to become one. She must have walked until her feet ached. But that's what moms do. And now, as I flash over those twenty four, nay, 27 hours of walking/laboring i still feel how my mom was always there. Never intrusive but always present.

Tonight as I'm wrapping these little gifts for my soon-to-be "threenager" I'm overwhelmed with gratitude for my mom. Is this how you feel every March 10th mama? Is this how Nana felt every March 19th?

Tomorrow I will inundate your news feed with requisite "my baby is growing up" pictures but for tonight, I'm immensely thankful for those who came before me and made my prayers possible.

And yes, that is my mom with me at the hospital at midnight...with a full face of makeup. Always photo ready.