Waiting

Any day now. Any morning, midday, or night now until we rush off to the hospital. For now, we are simply waiting.

This weekend has been a long string of small tasks. I vacuumed the house. I folded laundry. I washed the floor mats of the two cars. I installed a new carseat. I did more laundry. I repacked my hospital bag, and I packed my camera bag to ensure I have everything I need at the hospital. Small tasks, all a way of whittling away the time until it is time and we jump into the car and go.

The kids are waiting too. Celia helped me decorate the nursery walls with Brown Bear, Brown Bear decals yesterday, which gave us a nice opportunity to talk about the baby.

Celia: [Pointing at the glider] I can show baby how to spin?
Me: No, the baby won't be able to spin in the glider like you and Andres.
Celia: Ohhh. I sit with the baby and hold the baby?
Me: Yes, I think that's a great thing for you to do!

Celia is convinced that she is getting a sister. Recently we have been trying to suggest that she consider the alternative possibility, but she is having none of it. She roundly dismisses the idea that when the baby arrives, it may be a boy, not a girl. (We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.)

Andres is less convinced one way or the other. For months he said that he wanted a sister (my analysis: though coexisting with Celia can be difficult, he has figured out how to do it, and figures that he has learned all the lessons he needs to put up with another sister), but tonight he let slide that he may, possibly, want a brother. He said it sheepishly, like he knew he was disappointing Celia with the mere mention of a brother (she was well out of earshot). His reasoning? Because then he would have one of each.

It's cute reasoning on his part. I truly have no preference about the gender of baby number 3, but I know that deep down both kids have a rooting interest. And though Andres and Celia will continue to share a room now, in a few years they will be broken up, with the two boys or two girls taking the room upstairs and the lone boy or girl having the honor/punishment of sleeping solo. That is unless they convince us to buy a bunk bed so all three of them can stay together...

Andres and I spent some time together tonight talking about what all of this means. He's a deep thinker--he holds onto ideas and questions for a long time, and will often remind me about promises that I made months ago that have gone unfulfilled. (There are many.)

He's very excited about the baby. I told him that when it was time for the baby to be born, Natalia and I would have to go to the hospital, and he and Celia would come a little bit later and meet their new sister or brother. I asked him whether he had any questions.

Andres: How long are you going to be in the hospital?
Me: We'll probably be there for a few days. When you were born, we stayed for about 5 days, but only about 2 days when Celia was born.
Andres: Where will the baby sleep?
Me: The baby will be with us!
Andres: Oh so the baby will snuggle in between you and mama?
Me: No, the baby will have a little crib and the crib will be in our room. What else are you wondering?
Andres: Can the baby talk?
Me: No, not yet.
Andres: If the baby can't talk who will teach the baby to talk?
Me: Well, I think you and Celia can help a lot--I know she learned to talk so quickly because she was trying to keep up with you!

We talked for a long time. He's going to be a great big brother, again.

The waiting seems to be hardest on Natalia. She finished up school on Friday, and brought home some flowers from her coworkers and a few autographed onesies from her class. And now? No lessons to plan, nothing to grade, no conferences to prepare for...nothing. Just waiting.

Earlier today she said to me, "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do." I suggested just relaxing and napping, though it must be difficult to lounge around with so much added weight and anticipation. We are all waiting, but perhaps she is waiting most of all, eager to move onto the other side of this pregnancy, mindful of the process that must occur before she gets there. Relaxing is easier said than done.

So the wait goes on. The baby is due tomorrow, October 22. In 30 minutes it will be tomorrow. It is also Monday, so routines will resume--Andres to school, Celia to pre-school, me to work. All of us back on schedule except for Natalia, who is probably in more need of routines and distraction than the rest of us.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.