It's just like having a baby

I've been thinking about how Christmas is not too far off from birthing a baby. I mean I know we talk about the baby Jesus, focus on that baby Jesus, nativity, sheep, manger, star. Mary had to ride on that donkey. Sometimes we consider the mess and the pain of birthing in a barn, but usually it's forgotten in the "all is calm, all is bright". But I can't help but compare.

It starts off so great. The day after Thanksgiving I've got my Christmas decorations up. I've got my advent activities planned. I'm going to read that beautiful advent devotional book!!! December 1st starts the reading. (Kind of like those books we read about giving birth! It all sounds so do-able in 12 point font!!). I'm going to breathe deep, savor the season, bring peace on earth, or at least to my 4 walls. It continues along in peace and harmony, as I plan my baking schedule (make meals for the freezer for after the baby comes), check off my gift list of bought or plan to buy (make that baby registry), and schedule the cookie party. (Baby shower?) Suddenly, time starts really ticking by. Another cold creeps in and attacks one of us. We lose a day, or two or three. Christmas cards are trickling in, but yikes, mine are still at the printer. My peace on earth is starting to shrink as I am reminded not only of my own limitations, but the guilt and conviction that so many are hurting and lonely and poor and at best waiting for the next paycheck before they can buy their presents. Not only that, but I continue to grieve for dear friends who HAVE lost children this year, and the frequent reminder that this world doesn't make sense. And it's scary to love, because inevitably we are at risk of losing. (How does this relate to birthing? I had that fear nearly every day of pregnancy. That I would lose this child, or I might die in a freak accident, or my birthing plan would end up with a brain damaged child. Or why me, why so lucky when others long for a child much more than I?)

But alas, I continue on, adapting as I go, reading 2 days of our advent reading, to make up for yesterday's lacking. I "catch up". And then suddenly, it's TIME! Rooms are re-arranged to make room for more people, family arrives to help out, to celebrate. People are asking me "ARE YOU READY?" For Christmas. For this Baby to come. (BTW, never ask a mom who is 9 months pregnant WHEN she is going to have that baby. You might get whacked!) Amazon says I have 1 hour and 23 minutes to order to get my gift by Christmas!! (My water breaks, and I have 24 hours to get that baby out or they are going in after it!). And I'm 5 days behind in our advent reading. Oh and we forgot about the chocolate advent calendar, because even though there are 4 windows left on Christmas eve, someone went crazy on day 7 and ate 12 chocolates in one sitting when mom wasn't looking!!! And then it's Christmas Eve!! Even Lucy said "I wish we had one more day!" It's here! It's time to drop everything that isn't essential and delegate. Anna wrapped all the presents. Neighbors would have to wait to get their hot cocoa jars. There won't be homemade marshmallows to go with that cocoa. Rolls will be bought instead of homemade. Tim went to 3 different stores throughout the day for last minute things, the final time being 5 minutes before the store closed! (It reminds me of the anxious dad who makes 3 trips to the car because he forgets the car seat, the slippers, her special distraction device that will help with labor! And meanwhile, the mom who IS in labor, can't remember what the book said about breathing through those contractions. Oh, and what about when the contractions don't follow the rules, and don't stop in between??!!) And I'm getting another COLD!

I'm not even cleaning my kitchen. Tim's mom is here cleaning up after me every time I make or bake something. I should be on cloud 9. But I'm tired. I'm getting sick. At 11:00pm the kids have FINALLY just gone to bed, what with all the excitement, and I start stuffing stockings. To my shock and dismay, Lucy has replaced her list to Santa (that had been in there 3 weeks without a change), with a new one with mostly completely different items. Disappointment and worry about how Lucy will handle the truth about Santa, grieving that there will be no explanation to her questions of WHY except to OUT him, and yet it will be somewhat relieving if this whole blown-out-of-control component of Christmas is eliminated! I never advocated for Santa. My family and my culture did, and I just went along for the ride. Lucy's own version of the magic and mystery continue to create the story. And she still believes. At this point, there is nothing to do but go to bed, and wait for Santa, and sleep and Christmas to come. (When I finally got my epidural with my firstborn, that DID work, all I could do was wait. Try to rest, which was impossible, but wait for that baby to come! Baby #2, a different story. All I could do was SURVIVE the non working epidural until my body expelled him!)

And then 7:30 comes (I know, it's much earlier for some), and I get the wake up call. "MOMMY, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S CHRISTMAS MORNING. IT'S TIME TO GET UP. HURRY, IT'S TIME TO OPEN PRESENTS. SANTA HAS BEEN HERE!" It's here, Christmas is here. (That Baby is born) And Lucy immediately sees her presents unwrapped from Santa that were too big to fit in her stocking. She has forgotten that she has written a new list apparently, because she is THRILLED with the gifts that are there. "Santa KNEW I wanted these things, and he got them!!" Relief washes over me that there are no tears, or complaints or questions!! Everything is magical. Everyone is happy. (When that baby is born, I immediately forget the suffering, the pain, the agony I've endured up until that moment. The whole world waits in silence as I only hear my baby's cry, and even say to myself "It wasn't that bad, what was I screaming about?!" This is MY BABY!!)

And for a few sweet hours, everyone is happy with their presents. We have full tummies from breakfast, and the smells of the next meal are starting to fill the room. We are all in our matching snow-people jammies, and we are buzzing around in our own little worlds. And then, perhaps not until the next day or even two, the headaches start. My cold worsens and I spend half of the 26th in bed. Then the 2nd half of the day is spent holding a sick Henry, who proceeds to have GI illness, culminating in unexpected vomit all down the front of both of us. And then the family leaves. And all we have are stacks of empty boxes, filled with used wrapping paper. Piles of dirty laundry. Some leftover ham. (Not unlike when I left the safety net of the hospital, and the nurses, and the special ice packs and creams, and then that baby wanted more milk than I had to give, and it hurt like crazy, and how I wish I could sleep one hour, and then dad goes back to work.....and WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS BABY?!)

And that's what I'm left with this Christmas. What do we do with this BABY?! He'll grow up to be our Savior. But first He's a Baby. And then a Toddler, and a Pre-schooler. Perhaps HE was home-schooled! An apprentice with his father the carpenter. Carry on Mamas. It's only Christmas once a year!